


hearts awake

by coalitiongirl



Series: Swan Hood and the Evil Queen [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-17
Updated: 2015-02-22
Packaged: 2018-03-13 11:25:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 22,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3379772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coalitiongirl/pseuds/coalitiongirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In one realm, Regina struggles to hold onto her son and make peace with her past. In another, Emma struggles. An interlude after <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/1358440/chapters/2836681">hearts left bleeding</a> spanning the years until they meet again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So!! This snowballed a bit mostly because I have SO MANY HEADCANONS about this particular time. I've split it into three chapters of varying lengths and I'll post the whole thing within the week! The first is Regina and Emma, the second Regina, and the third Emma.

Henry sits up in bed on the morning of his tenth birthday and immediately spots two new developments since the night before. One, the town clock over the library is ticking. _Ticking_ , when it hasn’t moved for as long as he can remember. He blinks at it and then turns to his dresser and the other out-of-place item he’d spotted on it.

 

_Once Upon A Time,_ reads the name of the book, and Henry frowns fiercely at it. Mom doesn’t like fairytales, _hates_ them, tells him again and again that they’re _banal_ and _useless_ and _biased,_ and he’d gotten over his fairytale stage sometime around his fifth birthday. He’d been a kid obsessed before that, he knows. He must have done a lot of hiking with Ma back when she’d been around because he still has memories of traipsing through the woods with one of his friends, pretending that they’d both been princes or something equally fantastical.

 

Ma had been sick back then. He doesn’t remember much of it anymore, barely has any memories of Ma at all that aren’t Mom’s strained stories, but he has vague impressions of a woman lying in a bed beside him, her voice comforting and yellow hair spread around her in a halo. Mom doesn’t keep pictures of Ma and she gets weird when he asks more about what happened to her, so that’s all he’s had to keep of his other mother. No wonder he’d jumped into some secret fantasy life.

 

But now he’s ten, older and wiser and much too smart to believe that magic is real anymore. He’s in fifth grade and Miss Blanchard thinks that he has a great imagination, but that’s all. He doesn’t know why Mom would bring up that part of their past that he isn’t supposed to talk about.

 

He puts the book into his backpack and runs downstairs.

 

It’s the only day of the year he can get away with running on the stairs, and he takes full advantage of it, stomping and jumping down each one and landing with a bow at the bottom. Mom is at the dining room table, the plates set out for breakfast and a candle at the center of the table.

 

_Is it for my birthday?_ he asked her once, and she’d shaken her head. It’s about Ma, he thinks, because her face gets tight and all he can see is that mix of angry and guilty that she has whenever he does something really bad. She lights a candle on his birthday every year, and she’s watching it now, the yellow light flickering against her face. “Hi,” he says.

 

Mom jolts and turns, politician smile on her face. “Happy birthday, Henry.” He gives her his own version of the politician smile and sits down to his breakfast. He has memories of Mom sitting with him, Mom twirling him around in birthday dances and laughing and singing to him before he’s even out of bed. Now they sit stiffly at the table and sneak glances at each other over a lit candle like they’re afraid that even breakfast won’t end well.

 

* * *

 

The hook slams into a sword that slides into place an instant later, flat side just above Emma, and Emma staggers, drops to the floor and gasps, “What the…hell?” 

 

Even Milah looks a bit unbalanced. The sky is bright, the clouds of magic are gone, and they’re all left with the unmistakable sensation of _time_ having passed, of years gone and all of them frozen in place. _Henry_ , Emma thinks, and looks around wildly. 

 

Cora is the only one who seems unperturbed, and her serene face has Emma springing to action, rolling over and drawing Milah’s sword out of her sheath. “Emma!” comes the warning from behind her, and she blinks up at Lancelot. Right. The sword. He’d saved her life. 

 

And now Cora is lifting her staff, smiling unpleasantly, and _fuck, fuck, fuck_ Emma knows what she’s capable of. They may be the only people who’d escaped this curse and they’re trapped in a world with the woman who gives the Evil Queen nightmares. “Lancelot, _run!_ ” she orders, taking off as a fireball comes whirling toward them. “We have to get out of here!” 

 

He’s already brought his horse here and Beetle is trailing behind, so they both mount their steeds quickly and ride into the woods, more fire following them. Cora is laughing silently, Milah is fiddling with a pistol, and they vanish into the underbrush just in time. “The camp. We need to see if anyone’s still there.” That dome that Cora had created had stretched out a few miles, covered a few small towns and an abandoned castle. 

 

And the camp is still intact, from the sounds of swearing that Emma can hear as they approach. “Hey!” she shouts out, and they fall silent, a few rising automatically at her voice. “We need to ride north, _now_! There’s a witch out there who would put the Evil Queen to shame, got it? We need to leave camp!”

 

There are no objections, the Merry Men as disoriented as she is and quick to act without thinking about it. They pack up the camp in a matter of minutes, Lancelot guarding the perimeter, and they’re riding north at once.

 

The towns that remain untouched seem to still be bustling, but beyond them is nothing but destruction, ruins and the forest beginning to take back some of the land, and ogres lurching around in the distance. The ogres are back. Emma breathes in, curses Regina in a mental stream of fury that would have silenced even Much’s filthy tongue, and rides on. 

 

There is one place in the Enchanted Forest that even Cora might not venture to, and one place that must be protected from her. And lucky for her men, she knows exactly how to get in.

 

* * *

 

Regina blows out the candle at Henry’s bedtime, walks upstairs and confiscates the book he’s using a flashlight to read. “School night, Henry,” she reminds him. “The book will be there in the morning.” 

 

He blinks up at her, his face devoid of expression, and she shivers under his gaze. They’d been closer before. Then one day he’d started asking questions- _Why don’t my friends go to the next grade with me? How come you hate Miss Blanchard so much? Is Ma missing or is she dead?_ and she’d been frozen, unable to answer his questions and frustrated at her own inability, and since then they’d both withdrawn. She hates it. She doesn’t know how else to cope with it. “You didn’t give me that book, did you,” Henry says, and she shakes her head, confused at the grim way his face sets at the refutation.

 

She leaves the room, fishing for a bookmark to hold Henry’s place until morning, and blinks at the image on the page in the light. It’s… _No. Impossible_. 

 

But it is, a dark figure clad in green fighting off guards as a queen watches from the distance, riding a horse with imperious posture and her cold face making it clear that she cares little if the green-clad woman lives or dies.

 

She turns the page forcefully, sinks down onto the floor beside Henry’s room to gape at each picture. Snow White, brought to life with a kiss. Emma riding through the woods with a toddler in a sling around her front. War council tables and towns on fire and so much Emma that she chokes on it. 

 

And on almost every page, there she is. The Evil Queen, dark and mysterious and dangerous. Undoubtedly a villain. The words around the images are scathing when they refer to her, never Regina, only the _Evil Queen._ Frowning, she flips back through the pages. Emma merits discussion throughout, but even her teenage years and early twenties make no mention of the Queen Regina as a…dear friend, only _Swan Hood was employed by the Evil Queen to steal for her_. 

 

Someone has given Henry a book of poison, and he’s already willingly devoured it. “It’s a good book,” his voice comes from behind her. Henry stares down at her, his forehead screwed up stubbornly. “Do you like it?” 

 

He’s already put it together, pieced together slivers of memory and the people in town to understand exactly what he’s reading. Regina is terrified at once.

 

She flips to the end with haste, searching for the one great mystery, the one truth she’s never known, and finds only torn-out pages. Henry says, “I burned them in the fireplace.”

 

She forgets to pretend to not care and demands, “What did they say?” 

 

He shrugs, but a sliver of fear passes behind his eyes, barely visible but _oh so potent,_ a nail of destruction hammered into their already fragile bond . Regina’s heart feels dry and empty and dead. “Just stuff.” 

 

And there’s nothing left to say but, “I thought you’d gotten over your fairytale phase,” a quick smile that lets him know that none of this matters, it’s just a silly book that makes out some fairytale character to be a villain. She doesn’t care. It’s _fiction_. 

 

“I guess not,” Henry says, and there’s no more fiction in this house. Not anymore.

 

* * *

 

It takes weeks to make it to the Dark Castle. They’re waylaid by ogres along the way, more numerous than they’d been before the curse- seven years ago, Emma guesses. Something had happened with Henry and time had started moving again.

 

_Henry. Henry, Henry, Henry_. He’s been taken by the curse, she knows that now, spirited away by Regina at the last minute and stolen from her for good. She doesn’t know if Cora had been working with Regina, if this had been a final attempt to punish Emma for siding with Snow and taking Henry with her.

 

As if her near-death hadn’t been enough. She grimaces as her leg twinges in reminder of _that_. She’d been prepared for it and not at all, knowing what a wholly lost woman would do to the one who’d taken her son away. Yet she’d never believed that Regina would stop loving her, would hate this deeply.

 

But the curse had been cast. Henry Sr. has been killed, then, the one Regina loves most- or the other, who shares his name. Regina’s _love_ is no saving grace.

 

She dismounts at the castle, leaning her forehead against Beetle for a moment in quiet grief for Henry- and quiet fury for Regina, which returns with every moment of loss. She’d taken Henry for Henry’s own good, for his safety, and Regina had _known_ that. Regina had taken Henry from her out of spite and vengeance and some sense of twisted justice. And now…what? Is he leading a war against her? Finding whoever this savior is? Oh, god, she wants Henry to have love in his life, to be happy and protected even if the thought of Regina makes her rage right now. She doesn’t want him instigating battles against Regina. 

 

She swallows hard, reminds herself that there’s nothing she can do about it now, and leads the way into the castle.

 

The suits of armor are easily fended off, and the bear- now headless through an accident that Emma can imagine- waves claws at her while Lancelot neatly swipes them off. There is no fire at the doorway anymore. The Dark One’s months of captivity before the curse must have left the castle a bit less well-defended. 

 

She leads the way into the main room and pauses, staring in surprise at the center of the room. A woman is seated at the table, flipping through a book, and she looks up at them, equally startled. “How did you get here?” 

 

“I could ask you the same,” Emma says. Behind her, she can hear the movements of bows drawn, her men already on guard. “Who the hell are you? How did you escape the curse?” 

 

The woman waves at the room. “This whole hall had been protected from it. I suppose Rumple wanted to be sure his little trinkets here were safe. The upper floors are gone.” Her lip curls. Emma catches the _Rumple_ and her eyes narrow. “I’m the help,” the woman says, by way of explanation.

 

“Where’s Belle?” 

 

“Who?” The woman looks genuinely confused.

 

So Belle is gone. “The Dark One has been locked up for months even before this curse. And you…stuck around?” 

 

She laughs. “Would you run from the Dark One? I didn’t take my chances.” The woman’s shoulders slump. “And now I’m here, separated from my family and utterly helpless. I thought I’d be alone forever.” 

 

Emma shivers at the thought of it, of waking up with the world gone and certain that you’re the only one to survive it. No one deserves that, and least of all a prisoner of Rumple’s so fearful of him that she’d stay locked away here. She isn’t entirely convinced she trusts this woman, but forcing her from the castle to the ogre wildlands just seems cruel. “Well, if you don’t mind the company, you don’t have to be alone,” she decides, and bows lower around her. She extends her hand. “I’m Emma.”

 

The woman hurries across the room, a relieved smile spreading across her face as she pumps Emma’s hand up and down. “Zelena.” 

 

* * *

 

David is awake. She hurls a glass into her mirror in fury, stalks through the house on high alert and snaps even at Henry when he comes in with a smug little smile like he’s _done_ it. Because of course he did, he’d had Mary Margaret read the book to him, and even when Kathryn Nolan arrives to retrieve her husband, Mary Margaret’s disconsolate face isn’t comfort enough.

 

The curse is unraveling, and it’s all that book’s fault.

 

Henry isn’t talking to her anymore as much as communicating in grunts and glares, watching her suspiciously as though she’s going to set the town on fire if he turns away. It feels altogether too close to living with Emma at the beginning of the end, the both of them knowing that Snow had been in danger and Emma furious and impotent about it.

 

Except Emma had failed then and Regina had, too, and now Emma is gone forever. _Not dead_. She won’t believe that Emma is dead, had tortured herself with the possibility for far too long. Emma is somewhere out there, and someday she’ll come back to them. _To Henry_ , she amends, because whatever they’d been is irreparable. She’d tried being angry with Emma for so long, but it seems a moot point now. 

 

Except soon neither of them will have Henry. He’s slipping away, bit by bit each day, and there’s nothing she can do to keep him with her. It’s Emma all over again, knowing that she has no _choice_ , she’s going to lose the ones she loves because of Snow White and her vaunted concepts of _good and evil_. Henry looks at her now like she’s evil.

 

He struggles through town, talking to people who see him as a silly child and talking to others who he’s able to _save_ , and she scolds him for his recklessness and nosiness and can’t ever approve of any of this.

 

When he’s asleep at night, she curls up on the couch, the book open and resting against her knees, and she traces pictures of Emma’s face and thinks of how proud she’d be of Henry today. And she hates, and she loves, and she’s always, always afraid.

 

* * *

 

The castle is quiet, and Emma leads her men out to fend off ogres most days. They’re clearing out the area near it, slowly pushing the ogres back into the wild, and it’s hard work but all feels rather empty regardless. What’s the point, beyond enduring? What more is there to rebuild here?

 

Someday soon they’ll have to go down to the towns that had survived to help them rebuild. For now, Emma searches the castle for something to stop Cora, Zelena hovering behind her and wringing her hands anxiously as she does. “He had a spell once that could take away someone’s power for good.” She’d stolen it with Regina- for Cora, actually- and they’d used it to try to save Quinn instead.

 

“Nothing can take someone’s powers for _good_ ,” Zelena says, frowning. At Emma’s sidelong glance, she shrugs and mutters, “I listened to Rumple when he’d talk. Magic can be sealed, but even that can’t last forever. You just need the right ingredients to break that seal.”

 

She dusts at the bookcase Emma’s going through, on automatic, and Emma says, “You know you don’t have to clean for _us_. The Dark One’s in another world now.” 

 

“It’s just habit by now.” Zelena moves down a shelf. “I was the bastard daughter of a woman who married the fifth son of a king. I spent most of my childhood cleaning to earn my keep.” 

 

She smiles, self-deprecating, and Emma knows the feeling all too well. “I was an adopted princess handed off when I was three for the male model. I’ve scrubbed a few floors myself.” The thought occurs to her, finally comprehension of why Zelena would have waited in Rumple’s castle for all this time. “That’s why the Dark One took you on as a housekeeper? You made a deal to get out of that?”

 

“Oh, no.” Zelena shakes her head. “I was out of _that_ house by the time I turned thirteen. My sister…” She stops herself. Emma arches an eyebrow. Zelena’s smile seems decidedly more forced now. “It’s all in the past now.” 

 

Emma’s the last person to start pushing for someone else’s past, and so she offers, “I was just shy of fourteen when I ran for good. A home is…nice, but we’re better off on our own.” 

 

“I suppose,” Zelena says, and she looks wistful and angry all at once. Emma isn’t thinking about masters and nobles and poor families who’d held her in that moment; she’s thinking of a sprawling apartment within a castle, a little boy’s nursery and a bedroom with elegant adornments and space enough for two. 

 

Wistful and angry sums it up nicely.

 

* * *

 

“This is highly inappropriate, Miss Blanchard.” Regina stands in the doorway, eyes unfriendly as she can manage without outright hatred bleeding through.

 

Mary Margaret shifts on her doorstep, fidgeting as though she expects to be let in. “Yes, I know. But you weren’t answering my calls and I thought we should talk about Henry.”

 

“All right. Talk.” 

 

“That book…” Mary Margaret says, and Regina steps outside and shuts the door behind her. “It’s…um. It’s been very good for his imagination. But he’s also been telling me some worrying things. About you.” She’s caught Regina’s gaze now, and there’s nothing but sincerity and concern in her eyes.

 

Regina despises her. “I’m aware of that,” she says coolly. “And none of it is your business, Miss Blanchard. You are his teacher. Your job is to teach him your curriculum and supervise him in the playground, _not_ to put _ideas_ in his head.” She narrows her eyes. Mary Margaret swallows visibly. “You will stop talking to him about that book. You will stop _humoring_ him altogether, and you will _not interrupt dinner with my son again_.” 

 

She turns on her heel and yanks the front door open, and Mary Margaret calls after her, “He thinks the book is Emma’s.”

 

She freezes. Mary Margaret ventures on, “Your late wife’s. There’s a character in the book with her name. He thinks she wrote it to warn him about you.” Regina whirls back around in a fury and Mary Margaret holds up a hand. “I’m leaving. I just…thought you should know that.”

 

She stalks inside just in time to catch Henry scrambling back into his seat, avoiding her eyes. “Are you going to take it away?” he asks, staring at his salmon. 

 

“Would it change anything?” she counters, and she knows it won’t. Henry with a mission will always be obstinate in it, determined to seek out truths that no one else will offer him. He watches her now as though he’s desperate for them, craving the truth, and she says, “Emma is not the Emma in that book.” 

 

Henry’s face falls, disappointed in her again. “Sure, Mom.” 

 

“She _isn’t_ ,” Regina insists, and it feels urgent that he knows this. “Your mother wasn’t some milquetoast fighter for good like that...fairytale character. She was…she wanted to take care of everyone, _yes_ , but she was driven more by what she thought was right. Even when it wasn’t good.” 

 

Henry is listening now, eyes fixed on her, and she doesn’t know how to explain Emma, Emma who’d been childish and selfish and had loved stupidly. Emma who gives and gives and gives and takes away all the same. Emma who’d trusted her when no one else had and distrusted her when she’d needed her most. Emma’s always been a mess of contradictions, had struggled between love and justice and… “Maybe she _was_ a hero, but she’s a better one than anyone in that book.” 

 

“The book says…she was the Evil Queen’s captive when she had her baby. That the Evil Queen stole her baby.” Henry’s eyes are boring into her. She freezes, struggling to keep the outrage off her face. She hasn’t read most of the book, too furious to endure the biased retelling, and that hits like a bombshell. 

 

“Henry, that book isn’t _true_ ,” she says, and has never meant it more fervently than she does now. “You are not that baby. You were born to two parents who loved both you and each other, and I know you’d rather believe that I’m the villain of this piece, but…” 

 

She takes a deep breath and realizes there’s nothing to say. She _is_ the villain, she knows that. She’s the enemy Henry has made her out to be. She’s built this town on her enemies’ memories, and she will do anything to keep it intact, even as Mary Margaret and David grow closer. His book might lie, but there’s enough truth in there that giving Henry the real story would push him further away. “Eat your salmon, sweetheart,” she says instead, and Henry stands, defiant, and storms upstairs.

 

* * *

 

Al the Lesser arrives at the castle one evening, seven years older. Behind him rides a nine-year-old Aziz and Emma stares, struggles to keep her face even and feels her heart straining with the effort of not breaking down. She greets them both and waits until they’ve disappeared into the main hall before she drops to the ground and buries her face in her hands.

 

Aziz had been barely a real _person_ when she’d seen him last, had been toddling around behind Henry and both of them had been too little to be their own people. Now he’s joking with the Merry Men, trying to fence with Lancelot, a growing boy with hopes and dreams and _god_ , Henry must be a stranger now. 

 

She lies back against the dusty ground around the castle and stares up at the stars, wondering if Henry can see them too where he is. Hating Regina is the foregone conclusion of her thoughts all the time now, bitter resentment for all she’s missed and how little still endures. She may never see Henry again. Regina had punished her for keeping him safe when Regina had been the danger and now she’s doomed to living the rest of her life with a few survivors, her family gone and her son growing up without her.

 

She should have let Thea kill Regina, she thinks, and traces invisible lines with her eyes to form constellations between the stars.

 

* * *

 

Regina takes desperate measures, leads Graham in circles and tangles David and Mary Margaret so deeply into the investigation that they can’t possibly be close to sharing true love’s kiss. And then suddenly, Kathryn is back and the clock counting down to the end of the curse is ticking again. Henry is skipping school, sneaking into buildings that should be locked up and testing her patience and terror at once until she breaks outside the library, shouting, _There’s a dragon down there, Henry! You need to stop this madness!_ until Graham and Mary Margaret are both staring oddly at her and Henry is crying.

 

She takes him home and refuses to speak to either of the people involved in their latest hunt for Henry, wraps an arm around him and walks him upstairs even though he’s shaking under her touch as though he’s terrified. “Mom,” he whispers hoarsely when she finally prepares to leave him and he’s tucked into bed. “Mom, tell me it’s real. Please.” 

 

She refuses to speak. He says, “The last pages had a prophecy. They said that I’d be the one to stop you. That I’d find a savior. And I can’t find a savior. I think I did it all wrong. But I’m not going to stop trying to save everyone. I’m going to stop you. Even if you hate me at the end.” He’s struggling to sound strong but his voice cracks and his eyes are so tired, so heavy for a child who should have only ever known the peace of this world. 

 

She goes back to him and he twitches away from her as though he’s afraid she’ll hurt him. Determined, she reaches for him, cups his cheek in her hand and murmurs, “I love you. I will always love you. Please, don’t do this to yourself.” 

 

She thinks she’s crying because he starts again, silent sobs streaming down his cheeks, and she presses her cheek to his and hears him breathe in return, “I love you, Mom. I love you.” She curls up beside him as he drifts off to sleep and swears silently that she will end this, will rid herself of Snow White and the true love that could break her curse before Henry takes more extreme measures. 

 

* * *

 

Emma has taken to exploring the catacombs of the castle, finding secret passageways and creeping through them with Aziz trailing behind her. Even Al’s filled out a bit over the years and no one else is small enough to fit through some of the trapdoors and hidden rooms except maybe Zelena, who has no interest in any of it whatsoever. 

 

These have escaped the curse as well, and there are strange instruments, jars filled with what must be spell ingredients, and vials with potion after potion after potion inside. “We don’t know what any of these do,” she says, running her finger along the shelf until dust flies from it. 

 

Aziz is looking at one like he’s thinking about drinking it to see, and she shoves him on the shoulder. “Watch it, kid.” The grief that comes with the way he leans against her is by no means unexpected, but it hurts just as acutely as it would otherwise. 

 

She swallows hard and traces the wall behind them, feeling for a catch in the stone, and the wall slides open a moment later to reveal–

 

A full-sized room, lit with lanterns and decorated with tables and tall arches. “So this is where the Dark One does his big projects,” Emma murmurs. There’s even a mostly full odd-looking contraption still set up on one of the tables, lit by a magical green flame and the liquid inside roiling above it. “Huh.” 

 

“We’re not coughing,” Aziz says suddenly, and Emma blinks at him. He shrugs. “We just…usually there’s dust.” 

 

“Someone’s been here,” Emma concludes grimly. “Someone’s been mixing potions down here. We have an…” No. Not an intruder. They’d come to a castle already ruled by a new magic user. “ _Zelena. Fuck._ ” 

 

“What?” 

 

But she’s already charging forward, reaching for the glass just as there’s a puff of smoke and Zelena’s fingers are wrapped around her wrist. The beaming smile is gone, wide-eyed enthusiasm replaced with narrowed eyes and a smirk. “Ah-ah-ah,” she says, waving her hand, and Emma is thrown back against the wall. Aziz narrows his eyes and runs at her before Emma can shout, and he’s thrown back to land in Emma’s grasp. 

 

“Who the hell are you?” Emma demands, setting him down and starting ahead again. Zelena is gasping for breath now, her skin fading…no, darkening…is she turning _green_? Emma stares for a moment before she takes her chance, reaches for her bow and nocks the arrow in place just as Zelena grabs the glass and swallows the whole thing.

 

The color fades from her skin and her breathing comes normally, and she laughs once and says, “It’s been fun, Emma,” before she vanishes in a whirl of green smoke.

 

* * *

 

Regina makes Mary Margaret an apple turnover. It’s some of her best work, beautifully formed and specially spiked with sleeping curse, and she comes to her classroom at lunchtime to pass it to her. “A gift,” she says, putting on her best smile. “I think we’re all a little embarrassed about all that unpleasantness, and I can’t help but feel guilty that Sidney did all this to get to me. I thought we could be friends.” 

 

Mary Margaret is staring at her like she isn’t entirely sure the turnover isn’t poisoned (which, well…) but she smiles and lifts it to her mouth. “It smells delicious,” she says, and she’s about to take a bite when she’s bowled over by a little blur of motion from behind them. “Henry!” 

 

Henry snatches the turnover from Mary Margaret without a word and Regina’s heart stops. “Henry,” she says, pleading.

 

He shakes his head. “No. I’ve been…I’ve been running around town for months, trying to find the savior,” he says, and his eyes are bright and he isn’t looking at her with hate or fear anymore. It almost looks like _hope_ , like something that she hasn’t seen directed at her in years, and it steals her breath away. “But you love me.” 

 

“Of course I do,” she whispers, reaching for him, for the turnover, for bringing him to safety. “Henry, please–“ 

 

He bites into it and falls, and all she can do is catch him and scream. 

 

* * *

 

Zelena is gone when they emerge upstairs to pandemonium. “She just turned the Friar and Alan-a-Dale into some kind of flying–“ Will starts, and then stops, as though he can’t believe that he’s saying this, and Al finishes for him.

 

“Monkeys. They were flying monkeys.” 

 

Emma covers her face with her hand. “What the _fuck_.” 

 

_Magic can be sealed, but even that can’t last forever. You just need the right ingredients to break that seal_ , Zelena had said, and now she’s flaunting power as though she’s unafraid, had finished a potion with little taken out of it before that. Zelena’s been waiting for her potion to be finished and her powers to be returned completely, and now that they’re back, she’s going to be a menace.

 

“What do we do?” Much asks from where he’s crouching under the table.

 

Emma looks at them all, the ones who’d missed the curse and survived ogres and Zelena. Will and John, Al and Aziz, Much and Lancelot. Six men remaining, and one’s a nine-year-old boy. “We stay here,” she decides. “We fight back if Zelena returns. We clear out the mountains. Then we go down to the kingdoms to get rid of the ogres down there. Got it?” 

 

They nod in agreement and Emma reaches for her bow and leads the way outside.

 

This changes nothing. Now, they rebuild.

 

* * *

 

Henry is in the hospital. Regina panics, paces, threatens Gold and falls beside the hospital bed in helpless defeat when she hears a quiet voice behind her. “What were you going to do to me?” 

 

And is there anything left to hide, even from someone as galling as Mary Margaret? Is there anything that matters with Henry unconscious and dying in front of her? Maybe there’d been a time when she would have thought so. Not anymore. Not faced with this. “The turnover had the apple I used on you last time,” she says, her head dropping against Henry’s limp hand. “I was going to put you to sleep before you broke my curse.” 

 

“So it’s real.” A second voice, as cautious as the first. Regina hadn’t even known that David and Mary Margaret were still talking. Or maybe this is why. “You really believe all this,” he corrects himself almost instantly.

 

Mary Margaret speaks again, sounding tired. “What can we do, Regina?” 

 

She turns. They’re both standing over her, these two warriors made into stock townspeople in her little kingdom, these two useless people even more useless than she is. And all she has is a sword that Gold had handed to her, _slay the dragon then,_ with a smug little smirk. 

 

“Slay the dragon,” she says now, and leads them out to her car.

 

* * *

 

And they do. Mary Margaret gets her bow from Gold’s shop and David waves the sword around as though he’s made for it, and Regina waits for them on the library main floor and hopes for the first time in many, many years that Snow White survives this. 

 

Except they’re all fools, Regina most of all because she isn’t a naive victim of the curse, and Gold ties her up and runs off with an egg full of the magic that was supposed to save Henry. The phone comes just moments later- _He’s flatlined, we don’t know what else to_ – and now they’re back at the hospital, Regina and Mary Margaret and David, and Henry is still and cold on the bed.

 

“Regina,” Mary Margaret starts.

 

“Don’t talk to me.” She has her arms wrapped around herself, afraid to reach out to feel a Henry who doesn’t move, a Henry who doesn’t breathe and fight and do stubborn, stupid things like Swan Hood herself.

 

And Mary Margaret, of course, is another person who doesn’t know when to stop. Maybe this is what Emma had loved about her. “Regina, what he said before the turnover…I think he figured out who his savior was going to be.” Regina freezes, and Mary Margaret says in a murmur, “What happens if you kiss him?” 

 

_What happens if you kiss him?_

 

_But you love me._

 

“I don’t have that kind of…I’m not _you_ ,” she says, and it burns like acid, furious at a woman who doesn’t exist anymore. “I don’t get magical moments like that. True love’s kiss didn’t save Daniel. True love’s kiss didn’t keep Emma with me. I’m the villain of this piece, not the _savior_.”

 

“Regina, I just...slayed a dragon! I discovered that I’m a master archer, and I’m apparently a Disney princess. I don’t think we can count on what we know about ourselves anymore.” She sounds more like Snow than she ever has today, the whole ordeal giving her new courage. Regina can feel long-dead bits of her heart prickling to life with feelings she’d sworn she’d never have for Snow again. “Break the curse, Regina,” Mary Margaret whispers, and Regina leans forward and kisses Henry.

 

The shockwave has her flying back, and Mary Margaret- no, _Snow_ , she’d brought her worst enemy back to life- catches her, gazes into her eyes with dawning recognition, and Regina jerks away and flees.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This spans most of S2 for Regina. As with last chapter, I'm mostly only leaving brief references to moments that are mostly unchanged in canon just so you can follow along.
> 
> Trigger warnings for this chapter include all the ones you'd expect from S2. Cora, torture, etc etc.

Mary Margaret tries to protect her and she falls into a portal instead. Regina’s still supercharged with magic from the kiss and she’s able to fend off the angry mob, dispatch the wraith, and threaten David before Henry comes running in, horrified. 

 

And suddenly it doesn’t matter that they’d shared true love’s kiss or that she’d broken the curse, suddenly she’s the enemy again, and she’s angry and frustrated and _takes_ him, keeps him with her until she can see him fading away again. She keeps him from running until she’s seeing through eyes that aren’t hers anymore, that are ugly and twisted with magic and desperation and she feels too much like her mother not to surrender this one.

 

Henry goes home with David. Regina is ousted from her position as mayor. She spends all of her time alone and searching for Snow, and as if all of this wasn’t enough, Whale brings Daniel back.

 

After he’s gone again and she’s gone to Archie, she makes her way to Snow’s loft. She’s fragile now, close to breaking apart at the seams, and she thinks that David and Henry might turn her away.

 

But David puts a hand on her back and guides her to the couch where Henry’s sitting instead. Henry is still staring down at his book. “I used magic,” she begins, and he looks up, eyes confused and betrayed. “To help Daniel find peace.” 

 

“You killed him?” It’s strident and accusatory, and it stings. And then Henry deflates, confused again. “I thought you loved him.” 

 

“I do. I did. He was in so much pain. He begged me…” She can’t speak anymore, but Henry seems to understand. His face relaxes, even if it’s still so serious when he meets her eyes.

 

“You hate Mary Margaret- _Snow White_ \- you hate her because of what happened to Daniel. That’s what made you bad.” 

 

He simplifies it, speaks it like it’s just a straight line, a to b to z, and she thinks of explaining it to him. Of telling him of lonely years locked in a castle, of a marriage she’d never wanted and a king she’d been forced to be with far too many times. No. “It’s a lot more complicated than that. I never…I don’t ever want you to understand what brought me to the dark place I was in.” 

 

“I just want to know the truth,” he says, and it’s all he ever wants. The _truth_ , the real story of a childhood built on lies. And now he’s replaced it only with a book structured on careful omissions, and she doesn’t know if she can combat that. 

 

“I was…I had reached the point where my hate was stronger than my love.”

“Aren’t hate and love really just two parts of the same feeling? You used to tell me that.” 

 

Her wise little boy. She reaches for his hand and he laces his fingers between hers, not tightening his grip but not pulling away, either. “Yes,” she murmurs. “For a time. I was angry and I hated and it was…it was the only way I endured. I had no one fighting for me- I’d pushed away the one person who _did_ , because I didn’t want to be fought for.” 

 

“Ma?” Henry asks, and she nods.

 

“She never understood why I wouldn’t just…run off into the woods with her. But I needed to fight my own battles. I needed to be in control of my life. And the only way to have that control was magic. I had to be angry to be strong. My love was never enough.” 

 

“It was enough to save me,” Henry whispers. 

 

She can feel the smile across her face, bright and painful in how much she _feels_. She embraces it, loves him with all her heart, and hopes desperately that he knows. “I spent seven years being a mother. I don’t think I know how to be a proper evil queen anymore.”

 

He’s still listening, receptive at last, and she says urgently, “And I know your book makes it sound like I kidnapped you from Emma when you were born. That we were only ever enemies. Your book left out a lot of the story, Henry. Emma loved me and I loved her and we were…you were _ours_.”

 

“So what happened?” 

 

“Snow White,” she says, and that’s always an answer, isn’t it?

 

* * *

 

_Your mother,_ Henry had named when he’d woken up from speaking to the princess with Snow, and Regina had been moments away from hunting down Rumple for help when David had called the Blue Fairy instead. Her mother is in the Enchanted Forest, alive and well. Snow is there. Emma might be there, and she feels a wave of terror wash over at the idea of it, another loved one in Mother’s grasp while she remains helpless and far away. 

 

“You’re working with _her_?” had been the Blue Fairy’s first comment when she’d entered the loft, staring at Regina on the couch. Henry moves an inch closer to her and looks guilty about it. “Snow would never accept this.” 

 

“I think Snow would expect it, actually,” David says, smiling genially. “She wants all the help she can get, even Regina’s.” 

 

“Snow understands that the queen’s brand of darkness isn’t one to be meddled with.” Blue’s eyes sweep over the two Millses on the couch with equal disdain. “I won’t help evil defeat evil. That land was meant to be free of…” She musters up a cool smile. “Well. Never mind that.” 

 

“So it’s you or Regina,” David says slowly. “That’s what you’re saying.” 

 

“Yes, that’s what she’s saying, you obtuse little shepherd man,” Regina sighs, giving Henry a quick kiss on the cheek and standing. Blue smiles unpleasantly. “I’ll look into this on my own. Gold will have more power than some vaunted glitter, anyway.” 

 

But David is glancing from her to Blue with indecision, and when he speaks, it’s to say, “I don’t think we can give up Regina’s help right now.” 

 

She gapes at him in surprise and Henry looks worried about it even after Blue has made her huffy exit. “She’s the head fairy. Should we have really sent her away?” 

 

David shrugs. “Emma never trusted her. She–” He smiles for a moment, wistful, and she remembers again that he's Emma’s brother. She’d found him lying on the side of the road that first day after the curse when she’d been…distracted, searching for Emma. She’d nearly let him die, let Snow’s true love fade away, and then she’d thought of Emma and called an ambulance instead. “I don’t think she liked fairy godmothers very much.” 

 

“She didn’t like any magic,” Regina admits, and Henry blinks at her in surprise. “Magic tends to make bullies out of good people.” She throws a glare at the door where Blue had exited and Henry grins.

 

David shakes her head. “Blue can be a bit of a bully. And she was the one who…” He looks suddenly disturbed. “I shouldn’t be telling you this.” 

 

“Try me.” She smiles at him, tight-lipped and perhaps a bit more threatening than he deserves right now. There’s nothing that _David_ can tell her that will phase her.

 

“She arranged for the assassin to be sent to your castle, and I can’t help but think that part of it was just about punishing Emma, too.” 

 

“Assassin?” Henry says, his voice high. He reaches for her hand and she grasps it tightly. 

 

David frowns at her. “You don’t know? I thought that Emma would have…Emma _left us_ because of that. We just assumed that she’d warned you and you’d killed the assassin and were on guard after that.”

 

“There was no…” She thinks back to the one time she’d seen Emma by the castle, a body at her feet. She’d… _oh god_ …she’d nearly torn her apart for it, nearly _killed_ her for coming to her. And Emma had given up her alliance with Snow and come to her to save her life.

 

She sinks back down onto the couch, her heart heavy again with regrets, and she says, “Never mind that. Henry, tell me exactly what this girl said to you.” 

 

* * *

 

She winds up working with Rumple anyway, their only chance to kill Cora first and worry about Snow later. They nearly wind up finishing off Snow instead, and it’s only Henry’s pleading that has Regina absorb a death curse, hold back the magic, and risk that it’ll be Snow who emerges into this world instead of her mother.

 

It’s Snow, and the relief she feels at that is less about who it is and more about who it _isn’t._

 

There are multiple victory parties she isn’t invited to. Henry appears at her doorstep halfway through the second one, Snow behind him. “He wanted to come home,” she says, and her eyes are still wary and pained when she sees her. 

 

Henry runs past her and up the stairs to his room, and Regina swallows and swallows but the lump in her throat refuses to dissipate. “Thank you,” Snow says suddenly. “I don’t think I said that before. Thank you for saving me.” 

 

“I didn’t do it for _you_ ,” she sniffs. She’d absorbed the curse at Henry’s behest, not Snow’s. She has no interest in swapping sides and becoming Snow’s ally, no matter how cordial she and David have been without her.

 

Snow doesn’t move, and Regina watches her, waits, doesn’t dare to ask the question that’s been eating away at her since Snow had returned to this world. Snow sees it anyway, or perhaps she’d come here with Henry to tell her all along. “I asked all the refugees there. No one had seen her or any of her men.” 

 

“Did you check-“

 

“The camp was overrun with ogres. And Lancelot– the knight who’d been guarding her– your mother had killed him.” Snow shakes her head, still studying Regina’s face. As though she thinks that Regina might shed some light on the matter. Regina refuses to react to that.

 

“I see.” She sees the signs too quickly, still too in tune with a woman she’d never wanted to mother. Shoulders slump and Snow's chin rises almost beseechingly and then the tears are spilling, helpless and fast, and Regina wraps her arms around herself and watches in silence, refuses to move forward or reach out to Snow.

 

“We did this. We pushed her to her limits and now she’s goneand–“ Her chin jerks just as quickly down, wet eyes narrowing at Regina’s silence. “Don’t you even _care_? How can you be so heartless?” This is the Snow who’s been dormant since the curse had been broken, indignant and self-righteous and so convinced that she knows best. “You did this to her.” 

 

“What happened to _we did this_?” Regina points it out, dry and distant and smug. Rarely is she this glad for the seven-and-more years of acting, of being someone other than a lonely girl who’d only wanted people to love. She gives Snow no insight into her mind now.

 

Snow sputters. “I wanted peace, same as Emma. _You_ were the one who made it so difficult.” 

 

“You never wanted peace. I _offered_ you peace.” Regina had promised her peaceful exile and Snow had fought on. 

 

“After I’d won.” Snow’s tears are gone, replaced with so much resentment that Regina is glad to see it. It’s easier to be angry about Snow than to think about Emma.

 

“You sent an assassin after me and Emma left you,” she says coldly. “So in the end, which of us was truly responsible for Emma’s disappearance?”

 

They glare at each other, trapped in this never-ending battle that had left Emma their casualty, and Snow takes in a shuddering breath and whispers. “We were so worried about who she’d choose that we never chose her.” 

 

“Yes,” Regina says, nearly voiceless, and she can’t bear it anymore. She whirls around and slams the door on Snow and stumbles to the study, head bowed and shoulders shaking with trapped sobs. Emma’s gone. Emma’s gone and it’s because of her curse, because of years of turmoil leading up to it. Emma’s gone and she wants to blame Snow, blame David, blame Emma…but really, what better culprit can there be but herself? 

 

No. Emma must be out there somewhere. The Enchanted Forest is large enough that she could be anywhere, must be...

 

* * *

 

"That scruffy forest woman with the knight? Oh, Regina,” Mother says, shaking her head. “Why must you always force me to eliminate these dalliances you fall in love with? You were meant for so much more.” 

 

It’s a moment from her worst nightmares, and she can only gape at her mother. Her _mother_ , who’d framed her for Archie’s murder and had Snow and David accusing her of murder in front of Henry, had her lose Henry for good and whatever faith the other two had begun to build in her. Her mother, who’s back in her life and terrifies her, who’s all she has now. “You…you killed Emma.” 

 

_Mother lies_ , she reminds herself, again and again and again over the next several days. Mother lies and manipulates and she’d _know_ if Emma was dead, wouldn’t she? But deep down, she’s uncertain now, hope flickering and fading too quickly. 

 

Milah- her mother’s companion, the woman she’d sent to kill her once- slouches around her house now, bloodied up from an encounter with Gold. Her face gives away nothing, but her eyes glint like she might know something more, and after Cora vanishes upstairs one morning, Regina confronts her. “Tell me.” 

 

Milah laughs. Regina knows a bit about her, had heard the legends before. She’d been married to Gold at some point in the distant past and had run off with a pirate. Rumple had returned to exact his revenge, had yanked out the pirate’s heart and sliced off Milah’s hand, and Milah had risen from that to seize control of the ship and become a pirate captain herself. Unsurprisingly, she’s fearless after that ordeal. “I won’t cross Cora like that.” Regina moves closer and Milah reaches up with her good hand to touch her fingers to Regina’s chin. “Are you still so beholden to your lost lover?” 

 

She smiles, slow and dangerous, _I-can-change-that_ , and Regina jerks away as the doorbell rings.

 

It’s Snow, and Milah quirks an eyebrow and leans back against the key table in the foyer, eyebrow arched. Snow stares at her and then back at Regina, her face terse. “What did you do with him? Where is he?” 

 

“What are you…” She understands a moment later, steps forward with rage simmering through her. “Henry. You lost Henry?” Her voice is rising and Milah’s brow furrows and Regina can feel adrenaline racing through her, terror like she’d had all through the last year of the curse when Henry had been running off on missions.

 

Snow sags. “I was so hoping that you’d been working with him. But you didn’t know, did you?” She speaks rapidly, as though she knows that she’s working with Regina’s very limited patience. “Gold came to our apartment today. Henry…made some kind of deal with him last year to help out Ella- the girl who’d promised him her baby? And he demanded that Henry come with him in exchange. I don’t know where they went. I thought you’d sent him to kidnap Henry.” 

 

Regina’s world closes in on itself rapidly, darker and silent like the first day of the curse. It had been Emma’s worst nightmare, once upon a time, Rumple with their son in his grasp. Regina had never understood it, had never quite known why Emma had been so convinced that the Dark One would take her child, but she’d been able to protect them for as long as she’d held the power there. 

 

But now he’s taken Henry and Regina doesn’t know why. “Get in my car,” she orders Snow, and she’s driving before Snow can buckle her seatbelt, careening through town as she demands, “Which way did he go?” 

 

“I don’t know! Regina, it was half an hour ago! He’s gone now!” They turn into the road out of Storybrooke and Snow says desperately, “I can’t cross the town line!”

 

“Mary Margaret was a hell of a lot better at keeping Henry safe than you,” Regina says, teeth gritted, and she steps on the gas. “You deserve this.” 

 

“He has magic! There was nothing I could do. He was going to kill us all! Regina, _please_.” Snow makes a mad grab for the steering wheel and Regina waves her hand and freezes her in place.

 

She stops short just before the town line and drops the spell on Snow. Snow falls back, head banging against the window. “Thank you.” 

 

“Give me your phone.” She finds Gold’s cell number and dials, drumming her fingers against the steering wheel.

 

Henry picks up. “We’re at the airport,” he says without preamble. “Don’t come after me. I’m going to be fine. Mr. Gold doesn’t have magic here.”

 

“Henry!” She breathes. Snow turns to look at her with new hope on her face. 

 

“ _Mom_? You didn’t kill Mary Margaret, did you?” he says, sounding suddenly worried. “It wasn’t her fault. I made a deal–“ 

 

“Oh, Henry,” she sighs again, this time with frustrated affection. “You’re smarter than that.” 

 

“I had to!” he protests. Then, a non sequitur. “Archie escaped from Captain Hook. He says that Cora is in town. My…grandma.” She can imagine his face from his voice, all screwed up with distaste. “I told Mr. Gold that I would only go with him if he took you, too. I thought maybe things would be better if you were away from her. But he wouldn’t when he realized Captain Hook was at your house.”

 

With frightening clarity, she understands Henry again. “Henry,” she says again, and it emerges in a sob. “Henry, you can’t do this. You can’t put yourself in danger to protect me.” Snow is watching her now and she doesn’t know if Henry is loud enough to be heard through the car, but Snow’s face is open and so vulnerable when she looks at her. “Tell me where you’re going and I’ll come get you. See if you can get away from Gold, hide in a bathroom or speak to a security guard and–“ 

 

“I heard Snow and David talking last night,” Henry says abruptly. “They said that you killed Ma and took me from her.” 

 

“No,” she says immediately, fury and fear roiling together in her stomach. She’s suddenly nauseous. Of course, Snow would hurt her in every last way possible. Of course. “No, Henry, I swear to you, I didn’t kill your mother.” Snow is still staring and Regina yanks open the car door and steps outside of it, pacing at the town line as Henry speaks.

 

“Snow said that when you were locked up, you were yelling after Ma that you’d kill her. She said she’d never heard you so angry in her life.”  

 

“Emma had just told me that she was taking you away from me,” Regina murmurs, remembering red-hot rage and hatred. She’d loathed Emma desperately, wanted her in pain and dying for it, wanted her to suffer more than even Snow White. Her _son_. Now, now with time and space and the clarity of who she’d been before and what she could have done to Henry, now she understands Emma’s decision. Now she’s oddly grateful for it, to have spared Henry what would have been even worse than the past year. Emma had saved him.

 

Mother says Emma is dead. “I would have…I would have said anything then. I would have done anything to keep you with me.” She realizes how it sounds and sighs. “But I _didn’t_.” She remembers with ever-present horror hurting Emma, lashing out and hurling her into the castle wall and refusing to allow herself to care, to think of her as anyone more than another of her victims. “She was alive and well when I last saw her, in bed with you in the cabin that you’d shared.” 

 

“Then what happened to her?” Henry wants to know, and Regina longs to wrap an arm around him, to comfort him for what they can’t change.

 

“I don’t know,” she says for what must be the thousandth time, and thinks again of that first nightmarish day of the curse. “No one knows.” 

 

“Do you hate her now?” Henry asks. She can hear him worrying at his lower lip as he speaks. “You never seemed to before.” 

 

“No. No, of course I don’t, Henry.” She walks a little faster, back and forth, back and forth. “It was never like Snow with her.” 

 

“Like Snow,” Henry repeats. “I thought you two were getting along now.” 

 

“That was before she accused me of murder and right in front of you, honey.” She looks determinedly ahead, avoiding Snow's gaze through the windshield. “And her letting you go won’t help much with reconciliation.” If she even wants to reconcile with Snow at all after being burned this often. But she doesn’t mention that to Henry, still eager and naive with the image of some kind of happy ending for all the people he loves.

 

“I’m staying with Mr. Gold,” Henry says suddenly. “We’re going to find his son. And he needs my help. He’s all weird and…I don’t know.” She hears a rumble from the other end, Gold saying something darkly to Henry.

 

“You are not staying with Gold, young man,” she snaps immediately. “He’s dangerous. He kidnapped you!” 

 

“I want to find his son!” Henry says, loud enough that her eardrums ache, and then quieter, “Ma would want to find me, wouldn’t she? Why does he always have to be alone?” 

 

“You aren’t–“ she begins, but he’s already hung up the phone.

 

She dials the number again and it rings twice before she gets voicemail. Furious, she stalks back to the car. “You told him I _killed_ Emma?” 

 

Snow doesn’t defend herself. Her eyes are strong again, stubborn and defiant, and she says, “Didn’t you?” She takes a deep breath as Regina gapes at her. “I don’t know what happened on the night before the curse. All I know is that Emma’s gone and no one seems to know where…but Henry’s been here all this time. And she never would have left him. Not willingly. So you tell me. What happened to Emma?”

 

“I don’t have to tell you anything,” Regina says coolly, and Snow’s fists clench and Regina thinks about how easy it would be to take her over the town line right now, to erase Snow White from existence for good. To punish her at last with oblivion. 

 

She doesn’t. Maybe she’s still the person who would. She’s certainly still the person who _wants_ to. But she doesn't.

 

* * *

 

She drops Snow off and returns home and Milah is no longer loitering, but Mother is sitting on the couch in the living room with a photo album on her lap. 

 

She’s holding one photo between two fingers, studying it with a look of distaste on her face, and Regina sees that it’s Henry’s class photo from this past year. Henry stands next to Mary Margaret, she beaming and he with a frown on his face. “She is very tiresome, isn’t she? I’d have thought you’d have finished her off by now, rather than running off to secret rendezvous.” 

 

“Henry had gone missing,” she says, reaching for the photo. Mother moves it out of reach. “I had to find him.” 

 

“And you let Rumple steal him from you.” Mother sighs deeply. “Regina, when you tried to have me killed- when you pushed me through that mirror- I did hope that you wouldn’t be so soft anymore.” 

 

Regina doesn’t ask her how she knows. Mother always knows. “Come here, Regina,” she murmurs, setting aside the album. Regina sits stiffly beside her. Mother reaches out to hand her the photo and strokes her hair, so gentle that Regina can almost control the automatic flinch when Mother’s fingers brush against her neck. “No matter,” she croons. “I’ve sent the captain after Rumple. She’ll find your son and her own. And we’re going to do something else entirely.” 

 

“What…what are you planning?” The photo is still in her hand and she stares down again, at Henry and at Snow and at two dozen children she’d cursed.

 

“The Dark One’s dagger,” Mother whispers. “Milah has left me a map to find it. We can have Rumple under our control, have him bring back Henry if Milah fails. We can have him kill Snow White and Henry will never know. And you will have your son and your victory at last. Mother always takes care of you, Regina.”

 

She leans to her when Mother’s hand tightens against the side of her jaw, demanding, and lays her head against her shoulder. “Thank you,” she says, and curls her fingers around the photo until it’s crushed into a ball and she can feel dismal tears threatening to fall.

 

* * *

 

And then comes the phone call. She’s in her office under the pretense of catching up on her mayoral duty and Mother has nodded absentmindedly and continued her search for the dagger. Snow is in the office with her, ostensibly helping to search for Henry but instead haranguing her- _she doesn’t love you, you’re better than this, Emma would never, Henry would never_ \- in a misguided attempt to force her hand, and she’s beginning to regret deciding to ever let Snow live when her cell phone rings with an unfamiliar number and she hits the speakerphone.

 

“Henry?” He hasn’t called since the airport and it’s been a full day, a day spent doing locator spells that turn fuzzy outside of Storybrooke and of calling Gold’s phone and getting no response. 

 

“Is this the Evil Queen?” The voice on the other line sounds dubious and tense, and she’s about to hang up when he says, “Henry gave me this number.” 

 

“Who are you?”

 

“My name is Neal Cassidy. I’m…I’m Rumplestiltskin’s son.” He sighs at that concession. “Listen, Henry’s safe with me. I won’t let my father near him again.” 

 

“I’m fine!” she can hear Henry protesting, and she breathes with relief. “I just wanted to…” 

 

“Emma,” Neal says, and he sounds very tense about it. Snow gasps in sudden recognition, hand on her mouth. “You knew Emma, right? I was one of her Merry Men. My father claims–“ He stops, takes a breath.

 

And then Regina understands, can feel dread suffuse her entire body. 

 

Gold had made a deal with Henry last year, had planned for this moment to take Henry along with him. He’d wanted an eleven-year-old boy to accompany him on a trip to make peace with his son.  _Why._

 

And then a memory, faint but clear even after all these years.  _Where is the father?_

 

_Gone. If the Dark One knew who he was, though_ …

 

Emma had known. Emma hadn’t been hiding Henry in the castle because she’d been Rumple’s captive. She’d been hiding… “No,” she says aloud. “ _Absolutely_ not.” 

 

“Henry’s father was named Neal,” Snow murmurs, and they can hear the intake of breath on the other line.

 

Henry says in the distance, “I _knew_ it!” 

 

“Listen,” Neal says, and Regina squeezes onto her own knee, controls the panic rushing through her as best as she can. “I’m going to bring him back to you. I’m sorry that my father dragged you into this. Please don’t kill me.” 

 

He sounds nervous about it and Snow says hastily, “She won’t kill you.” 

 

Regina gives her a dark look. “Just bring him back to me.” 

 

Just then, there’s the sound shouting on the other line, of a scuffle and a woman’s voice she doesn’t know, and Henry is shouting something and Neal drops the phone and Regina snaps, “Henry! _Henry!_ ” 

 

More shouting. A gunshot. “Henry!” 

 

Snow moves closer to the phone, straining to listen through the phone line. “I can hear Henry,” she says finally. “And…Hook. She’s there, too.” 

 

There’s a thump and some movements and Neal comes back on the line, sounding shaken. “There’s been a change of plans.” 

 

* * *

 

Milah has stabbed Rumple with a fatal poison and Neal is sailing her ship home, bringing along Henry and a captured Milah and what sounds like a very puzzled fiancé. Regina paces at the docks, waiting for Henry. Snow had run off after the phone call, summoned by David, and now she’s finally alone with her thoughts for the hours it’ll take for the ship to make it here.

 

Henry. Mother. Neal. Snow. There’s too much going on, too many sides tugging at her. She hates Snow. She loves Henry. Neal is a threat. Mother is… _Not a threat_ , she reminds herself. Not to Henry or her. And she doesn’t care about the people who consistently stand between her and Henry. Henry is all that matters.

 

She misses Emma so fiercely now that it aches at her, wears away at her like it used to when Emma had been growing into adulthood without her and she’d been locked in a castle with only her hatred for company. Then, at least, she’d always known that Emma had been alive and well, but she’d longed for her counsel all the same.

 

Emma’s been navigating conflict like this for so long- had navigated the conflict that Regina had _instigated,_ had struggled to keep everyone she’d loved safe and to stay on the right side of good. Regina thinks that may be a foregone loss for her, at least. She’s spent too much time inflicting pain to ever believe that she can be more than a villain, driven by more than hate and pain and reigned in only by love. 

 

The setting has changed, but the story still doesn’t.

 

Henry comes racing off the boat when he sees her, throws his arms around her and refuses to let go, and she saves the chastisement for later. There’s a woman standing on the deck, looking bemused as she stares around the pier. “So…this is a fairytale town, huh?” 

 

“This is Tamara,” Henry says, grinning at her. “My dad’s fiancé.” 

 

She smiles back. She’s pretty even with the dazed look of someone who’s just discovered that her fiancé is Rumplestiltskin’s son, dressed in a tasteful sweater and looking so very ordinary. She stares down at the space between the ship and the water, and Regina looks at her old-fashioned black shoes, remarkably similar like a red pair that Mother had had when Regina had been child. 

 

Or maybe she’s just seeing Mother everywhere now, as afraid of her as she’d been as a girl. Henry is here in town and Mother will know soon, will insist on seeing him and finishing off their enemies…

 

She breathes in slowly. “Where is Gold?” 

 

“Belowdecks. He’s not doing well,” Tamara says.

 

He looks weaker than she’s ever seen him, stretched out on a bunk with a bleeding wound on his chest, and Regina takes one look at him and orders Henry from the room. “You look like death,” she says.

 

“Be kind. We’re family now,” Gold coughs out, snickering at the idea of it, and Regina rolls her eyes.

 

“Your son is not my family. If I choose to allow Henry to be around him–“ 

 

“Henry chose,” Gold says swiftly. She glowers at him in silent acquiescence. “If I’d known that Lady Swan had been pregnant with my grandson when I’d held her…well. Things may have turned out differently.” 

 

“Don’t play the kindly father now,” she shoots back. “It doesn’t suit you. You’d have killed Emma the moment she’d been of no use to you anymore and kept Henry as your bargaining chip with Neal. Everyone would have suffered more.” 

 

“Perhaps not our Lady Swan.” Gold clamps down on the bloodied cloth he’s holding to his chest, wincing. Regina scowls, categorically disagreeing with that, but she thinks back for a moment to Emma at her castle, screaming in pain, and she doesn’t know. _Snow, Snow, it’s Snow who did this to you_ , whispers a voice in her mind she’s been struggling to ignore. _You did this to yourself_ , comes the easy response, and Regina jolts from her mind as Gold speaks again. “Tell me, did you ever stop looking for her?” 

 

She stares at him in disbelief. He knows about her old suspicions, what had kept her running out of town on errands and searching the Internet and news sites and speaking to detectives, hunting for clues. Of course he does. “When the curse broke and Snow fell through the portal. That’s when I stopped searching here.” She hesitates, always wary of trusting him with too much, and says finally, “My mother insists that she killed her.” 

 

“Odd. Milah told Bae that Emma had survived.” His eyes drift closed. “Of course, she would have told him anything to gain the upper hand in our…debate,” he says delicately. “The question remains- which mother with an agenda is telling the truth?”

 

She has no simple answer for him.

 

* * *

 

She goes home, to Mother sitting at the kitchen table with the Dark One’s dagger in her hand and a stern look on her face. “It’s been hours,” she says, and Regina is about to come up with excuses, apologies, instinctive from years of _not crossing Mother,_ when she continues, “And the name on the dagger is fading. Rumple is dying. We can’t let all that power go to waste.”

 

Mother smiles thinly, and Regina thinks of Henry’s shaky voice,  _I thought maybe things would be better if you were away from her._ Henry had thrown himself into the hands of a man more powerful than any of them to protect her from Mother, and here she is again, still bound to her with Henry far away. And wary. Always wary. “What will you do with it?” 

 

“What can I do?” Mother waves her hand, unconcerned. “That power has to go somewhere, and we’ll take it where we can.” 

 

“You want to become the Dark One.” Mother’s plan is coming together, piece by piece unraveled from the spool to be woven into a horrifying end. “That’s what this is about. You’re going to kill Rumple and take his place.” 

 

“Do we have any other choice?”

 

Mother is prepared, all set to make a choice, and Regina says slowly, a moment like _that steed with Snow on it…it didn’t go wild on its own, did it?_ and Mother is scheming, always scheming for power, “Odd coincidence how Milah was armed with that poison when she was heading out to reconcile with her son, wasn’t it?” 

 

She’d felt sympathy for Milah before, had preferred her over Rumple in this feud, anyway, but she knows too well how vengeance can take over, can become more important than even love when twisted in the right ways. And when there’s a friend to remind Milah that there isn’t just her son waiting, and she should be prepared to battle the Dark One…

 

Mother’s eyebrows rise and Regina keeps her mouth shut when Mother says briskly, “Well, we can’t all set up convoluted plans that last decades and fail miserably at them. I’ll finish off Snow White for you, sweetheart.” She’s dropped the facade of loving mother and replaced it with the cruel woman who’d only ever sought power, and Regina is resigned to it again.

 

She lowers her eyes so she won’t meet Mother’s and Henry's-Emma's-David's-Snow’s faces all spin through her mind and she doesn’t know, she doesn’t know anymore what she wants, and she thinks of Emma holding onto her arms on the steps down to her dungeon, begging her not to end this feud. “Thank you,” she says, and loves and hates all of them at once.

 

* * *

 

And then they’re battling Snow and David and Neal over Rumple’s dying body and it’s so easy, _too_ easy, even when reinforcements spill in as though they can overwhelm the two most powerful women in town with numbers. “Listen to me,” Neal says urgently. “I know what it’s like to have a parent who–“

 

“Shut _up_ ,” she snaps, their shared mission over, and Neal looks at her as though he understands anyway. She spins around and refuses to catch his gaze again, protecting her mother on automatic.

 

And then, after they’ve cleared the room, Mother groans with alarmed pain and sends Regina to her vault. Someone has her heart. _Snow_ has her heart, Regina discovers, furious at the theft. 

 

_I was going to give it to you_ , Snow says, staring at her, and Regina reads something else in her eyes. Snow makes promises about a safe future, about a mother who loves _right_ and promises Regina can’t push away. They worm into her heart like insidious dreams to force her to falter and she takes the heart from Snow.

 

Snow’s hands shake and she says- too soon, of course, Snow is prone to saying the wrong thing at exactly the wrong time- “I’m sorry. About Archie and about Henry,” and in a moment, she’s an open book to Regina. Regina sees guilt in eyes that flicker to the box and she knows that Snow’s tampered with the heart somehow. This isn’t just Snow gifting her with love, this is Snow _manipulating,_ and Regina’s eyes narrow with new distrust.

 

“Come with me,” she orders Snow, and Snow walks beside her in silence, her mouth opening and closing as her gaze moves back to the box, again and again. 

 

Regina leaves her outside the pawn shop and enters, tentatively grasping the heart in her hands. “Mother?” They’ll figure out whatever Snow has done to the heart and then Regina will put it in again, will save her mother from this darkness and–

 

Snow comes skidding through the door, eyes wild with frantic fear, “Regina!” she calls, and Mother reacts, spins around and reaches out to close phantom fingers around Snow’s neck, lifting and choking her at once. She gurgles and squirms and Mother laughs and Regina panics as though she’s fifteen and being held in the same position. She panics as though Snow _matters_ , as though Mother must be stopped, as though–

 

She doesn’t think. It’s all instinctive when she thrusts the heart into Mother’s chest to stop her, to _save Snow_. It’s all instinctive until Mother turns around, eyes so bright and alive and lovingthat Regina nearly laughs, smiles in shocked amazement at what could be decades of pain and misplaced resentment wiped clean. 

 

She feels like a child again, hopeful and eager for her mother’s affection, and this time it’s given to her, ceaseless and sincere. She breathes for what feels like the first time since she’d caught a little princess riding on a horse. Mother laughs joyfully, and then– midway through the laugh, she seizes at her chest in concern. “Mother? Mother!” 

 

Regina catches her before she falls, holds her and doesn’t understand, doesn’t know how…

 

Snow hits the ground with a thump. 

 

Mother gasps out, “This…would've been enough. You…you would've been enough,” and falls back in her arms and she’s gasping back at her, sobbing, begging her to stay, _Don’t leave me_ , they’d been so close to _enough_ , they’d almost…

 

She’d pushed a poisoned heart into her mother’s chest and Snow White had orchestrated it. She looks up to spot Snow in a crouch across the room, and Regina’s grief is replaced at once with red fury and pain brighter than it had ever been before. 

 

* * *

 

She pays her final respects to Mother with Gold standing over her with her health and vigor returned to him, espousing old love and urging her to let go of her anger like the fucking force of destruction on her life that he is. She sinks to the ground and thinks of Emma at eighteen, hood still shielding her from her and pleading with her to reconsider her apprenticeship. _You could run away with me. I’d take care of you_. She’s never wished more that she’d taken her up on her offer, that she’d put aside Rumple and Snow both and found simple joy in being able to forget.

 

But there has only ever been anger and long memories, and surviving has meant waging war. Emma had taken far too long to understand that, had imagined simple outcomes and happy endings when Regina had known that escape would only be another cage, fleeing and hiding for the rest of her life. She’s been fighting her whole life just for the ability to fight, and surrendering- even to Emma, even for love (love isn’t enough, love had never been enough, not before Henry)- had always been an impossible prospect.

 

When she returns home, Henry’s backpack is lying on the porch stoop and he’s sitting on the step. “You skipped school,” she says numbly, and he sees her and the tears begin to spill, his and hers alike, and he runs to wrap his arms around her- he reaches higher than her waist now, halfway up her back, growing too quickly for her to catch up- and bury his face against her.

 

She detaches from him with reluctance. “Sweetheart,” she whispers. “You can’t be here right now. You can’t be around me right now.” 

 

He fights to hold onto her until she’s backing away, pushing him from her gently and, oh god, sometimes he looks just like Emma, when he’s determined and angry and so confused about what’s right. “Why? Because you want to kill Snow?” he demands through his tears, shaking his head as though to ward them off. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

 

“Henry, I’m not…I’m not safe right now.” Snow hurting, Snow defeated, Snow _broken_ before her is all she can think of right now, is all she is. Vengeance, the first time, had crept up on her, from dark urges she’d suppressed to years of building resentment. This time she won’t need years of being caged with her grief and hate to become someone terrible. This time it’s a flash of _I saved your life and you used me, you took mine, again, again, again_ and there is no more grace for Snow White. “Would you please just let me protect you?” 

 

“I don’t need you to protect me from _you._ ” Henry sounds frustrated and agitated, his little face screwed up like he’s spilling over with emotion and doesn’t know how to let it emerge right. “You can’t do this, Mom, you _can’t_! We can fix…everything, I swear. Please. I don’t want to lose you.”

 

“You think you’ll lose _me_ in this?” she echoes, disbelieving. “I know you think that good always wins, but you can’t possibly believe that _Snow_ is the good one here–“ Snow had used her as artfully as she could, and Regina had tried to save everyone, family and enemy alike, and wound up the only one in pain. There’s a part of her that’s impressed with Snow even as she thinks blindly of her death. 

 

“But I’ll lose you. If you hurt her, I’ll lose you.” He’s Emma again, locked in her grasp. _Regina, please. I don’t want to leave_. They’re ensnared in their own moral codes and so tightly locked in that they can only plead with her not to let them make this choice. Not to make them choose.

 

And she’ll lose Henry down this road, as easily as she’d lost Emma. Snow deserves none of her mercy anymore, but Henry does, Henry who’s holding her again as she murmurs, “You are your mother’s child.” 

 

“You always say that,” he says, but she can hear the relief in his voice at the sigh of surrender in her own. She doesn’t tell him what she thinks when she sees his stubbornness and fearlessness, that he isn’t just Emma’s but so unfortunately hers as well. Instead she thinks  _idiot_ as affectionately as she can, and she kisses the top of his head and sends him on his way with a promise.

 

“Emma said she never wanted Henry to be your lifeline,” Snow says when he’s gone. Regina spins around and stares. Snow is tearful and trembling and exactly where she wants her to be. “That your redemption should never be his responsibility. I just…I thought you should know that before you killed me.” She takes another step forward, head bowed and hand on her heart and  _“Kill me_ ,” an echo of supplication. 

 

It’s the most difficult thing she’s ever done to turn away in that moment, to refuse to take that heart and crush it as Snow deserves and gives freely. “Henry isn’t my lifeline,” she lies, and adds in dull honesty, “But I’m his, and that matters more to me than you ever will. Now _get off my property_.” She stalks into her house and slams the door behind her and sinks to the floor as the relief, the freedom that comes with resisting her own impulses, washes over her like a balm.

 

* * *

 

Next thing she knows, Snow and David are making plans to return home, _Find Emma, give Henry the mother he deserves, leave Regina behind here,_  and Regina is laying waste to their beanstalks and retrieving a few only for her and Henry to escape when there’s a knock on her office door and Milah stumbles in, bruised and battered but not nearly enough to wipe the smugness off her face.

 

And the innuendos vanish when Milah hears about Mother, fade into something that looks like genuine grief, and Regina is moved enough by that camaraderie that they begin a short-lived alliance together while she goes hunting for a fail-safe that will trigger the destruction of the town. _For Henry_ , she tells herself. Henry will want to live with her. Henry loves her. 

 

She’s driven to this desperation without Henry, when it’s threatened that he’ll be taken from her for good. She has no choice. He’ll have to understand. They have no one but each other, and she refuses to allow Snow White to take anyone else she loves from her. 

 

She makes plans and Milah joins along and she doesn’t know, doesn’t understand, not until the cuff on her arm is blocking her magic and Neal’s fiancé strolls into the library while Milah watches, Whale trailing behind her. “What is this?” 

 

“You really are as naive as your son,” Tamara says, and she yanks a bag over Regina’s head. Something smells sickly sweet within it, and Regina can feel the world fade away as she inhales.

 

* * *

 

She comes to strapped on a table, Milah standing over her. “I am sorry it had to come to this,” she murmurs. “But they can give me what you won’t.”

 

“Whale?” Regina says, lacing her voice with dubiousness. “If you want an ass grab and a few generic painkillers, maybe.” 

 

Milah blinks at her, confused, and moved on. “Their home office. Whoever they work for has plans for Rumple that will leave him helpless. And I’ll be able to skin my crocodile and find my vengeance at last.” 

 

“Vengeance isn’t worth this,” Regina says, her voice still thick from the pain of being knocked out. “You’re going to trust these people?” 

 

“I want Rumple out of my life and out of Baelfire’s once and for all,” Milah says. “We have common goals. I don’t care how it happens.” She leaves the room, her gait steady, and Whale enters next. 

 

“I’ve been waiting for this day for a long time,” he gloats, and she grimaces and responds with equal rancor and disgust until there’s no space for anything but pain.

 

Whale had been Frankenstein once, a monster maker who’d helped forge the Evil Queen, too, and now he plays with electricity and human lives with equal eagerness, spitting curses at Regina as though she’s a woman who’d rejected him. Tamara flits in for a moment and Regina is in too much agony- and has too much pride- to catch her eye.

 

“ You have no... idea who you're dealing with ,” she grits out. Whale’s afraid of it, she knows, contemptuous and fearful just as he is of Regina herself. 

 

But he’s unperturbed by her threat. “ Actually, no, you have no idea who you’re dealing with.” He adjusts a dial and she bites back a scream, thinks of Henry to center herself and imagines, for one weak moment, Emma locked around her, kissing her way down her body as her fingers bite into her thighs, an exquisite pain to be treasured instead of resisted. 

 

Her whole body is tense, refusing to allow Whale any proof of her pain. "A couple of fools in over their heads who go around stealing magic.” 

 

Tamara laughs. “Stealing magic. That’s what you think we’re doing here?” 

 

“We’re not here to steal _magic_.” Whale says the word with extra disdain. He turns the machine all the way on for an instant, long enough for her body to jerk off the table and her skin to feel as though it’s tearing apart, eyes blind with agony, and she thinks of another moment instead, another Emma, wrapped in magical electricity as Regina takes out all her rage on her. She can endure this. She’d done it to Emma, and she can endure it now, from people who have no right to hurt her like this.

 

" Magic does not belong in this world. It's unholy. We're here to cleanse this land of it.” Now it’s Tamara who’s adjusting dials, leaving Whale to watch. She moves efficiently and with confidence around the machine, and Regina is able to shift her head just enough to catch sight of those odd shoes still on her feet. “Your magic will be gone by the end of this. If you will…well, it remains to be seen if you’re worthy of that.” 

 

Regina thinks then of a dozen biting comments and forgets them all as her limbs stiffen, as her body is overwhelmed with more electricity than it can possibly endure, and her whole body is screaming when she won’t and she barely has her head or the energy to speak. And all she can remember to say is, “My mother’s shoes.” 

 

“Yeah,” Tamara says, and turns another dial. From her pocket, she produces a glass bottle of what can’t possibly be water, and Regina doesn’t know what’s real and what’s an illusion anymore. “But she stole them, too.” She turns another dial and Regina screams at last, again and again until the lights beneath her eyelids are too bright and painful for this world.

 

* * *

 

When she comes to, it’s to Snow’s face and in Snow’s bed, and she thinks, _This is it. I’m in hell,_ before Snow speaks- _I had the Blue Fairy heal you_ _-_  and she’s abruptly aware that she’s still alive. David is behind her and they’re both looking down at her with so much compassion that it’s another kind of hell, the one where her heart is doing all the wrong things and Snow has _saved_ her, Snow counts her as family, and she can’t breathe even though she’s been healed.

 

“Henry should be back here soon,” David says, checking his watch. “I’m going to hold him off so you have a bit more time. And I need to explain to him about…” He bites his lip.

 

“About?” Regina prompts. 

 

“Neal was shot and fell into a portal,” Snow supplies. “He came with us and the three of us bumped into Tamara on the way. She just…disappeared.” 

 

Regina closes her eyes, a memory decades old resurfacing, another girl's hand tight in hers as they… “Yes. I’m familiar with portals.” Neal is lost, probably forever, and she finds herself mourning him for Henry. She hadn’t known him well, but Henry has been spending more time with him while giving her the distance she’d begged for, and she imagines it’ll hit him hardest.

 

If they survive the fail-safe, that is. “We have bigger problems,” she says, and Snow reaches for her hand and squeezes it and nothing is gone, but there’s something more now. Snow is looking at her with something different in her eyes, haunted as though she’s the one who’s undergone unspeakable pain, and and Regina lets her hold onto her hand. “You’re not going to like this.”

 

Wherever Neal is, he’s been lucky to escape this end.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wound up putting a lot more of the Storybrooke side in this, which is 100% unnecessary but wHATEVER. More insight re: Regina's POV, let's have some fun. =)
> 
> There is some dialogue taken directly from Quite a Common Fairy and Going Home! And a brief bit of Regina/Milah for those who are sensitive to it. And I'll be back in a couple of weeks with Part III ready to begin! :)

And now she’s standing in a cave with the fail-safe trigger floating in front of her and peace thrumming through her even as magic courses past it, straining every last bit of her as she pours it into the trigger. _Let me die as Regina_. She hadn’t said as much to David when he’d seen her off, hadn’t parted with anything other than a determination to stop a mess she’d begun, but he’d still looked at her as though he hadn’t known what to make of any of this. 

 

She isn’t certain herself. She’s stretched too thin these days, caught between anger and a desire to _protect_ , to keep Henry safe and even Snow and David but also the town Henry values, the people Emma had once been so devoted to feeding and supporting. Henry and Emma are good, good in all the ways that she can’t disdain as hypocrisy, and she wants to…she wants to make them proud. Even if Emma’s gone. Even if Henry still looks at her sometimes with such mingled disappointment and love, like she’ll never be able to be enough for him.

 

She’d once believed that her death would be a final spitting in Snow White’s face, a death of pride and vengeance and whatever bare satisfaction she could glean from that end. She’s never once thought that she would die a noble end, get a chance to _mean_ something and to save the people whose suffering she’d once sought in the process.

 

They’re her town, her people, even if they loathe her. This is her land and she’s tired of always wanting to destroy, demolish, _end_. She’d thought Emma a fool for feeding villagers who would only wither up and die eventually, wouldn’t they? There had been no satisfaction in salvation as there is in destruction, just ongoing struggle, day in and day out. Her own experiences with salvation had been nothing more than the first steps to loss and suffering. _Weak_ , Mother had said with disdain. _Liar_ , Zelena had cried out. _Mother,_ Snow had beamed. 

 

But Emma had kept fighting. Henry keeps fighting. Even Snow, turmoiled as Regina's feelings about her are, keeps fighting. And now she feels it- strength in fighting for good when she’d only ever clawed for survival and love. Peace in the certainty she’d never had before.

 

She’ll die as Regina. Maybe someday, others will know that.

 

She’s startled when there’s the sound of voices nearby, Snow’s shrill as she says, “The fairy dust is all just…gone. And no one can find Blue anywhere. What are we supposed to do?” 

 

Another voice, one that makes her teeth grind. “I told you, throw the trigger into the portal,” Milah says impatiently. “Take your chances with our land. There’s nobody left there.” 

 

“My Ma might be there!” Henry protests, and Regina does look up now to see them rounding the corner and Henry run to her, hugging her to him as soon as he spots her. 

 

“David,” Regina says, betrayed, her gaze piercing through him, and Snow steps between them. 

 

“We’re not going to let you die. Not now.” Snow looks determined and chagrined at once, wringing her hands as David holds onto her shoulders, torn. “There must be another way.” 

 

“Why is she–“  Regina nods to Milah. “Now we’re working with _her_?” 

 

“We seem to yo-yo between villains every day,” David says wryly. “But Milah is helping us now.” 

 

“I’m helping _him_ ,” Milah says fiercely, eyes on Henry. “Bae’s son is all I have left of him. And if you want to save him, then you’ll toss that trigger into a portal before it destroys this town.” She holds a bean between her fingers, one of the ones from Regina’s office, and Regina finds it difficult to hate her right now. 

 

“Henry’s right,” she murmurs, defeated. “Emma might be in the Enchanted Forest. We can’t risk it.” Emma comes before the town, before Regina, before anyone but Henry.

 

“And if I told you she was dead?” Milah’s eyes are defiant and Regina can’t tell if she’s telling the truth or lying. 

 

“Take the bean,” she says, hands shaking with the force of the magic being funneled out of her. “Take Henry with you. Take Snow and David and anyone who wants to escape. I’ll hold off the trigger for as long as I can.” 

 

“Mom, _no_.” Henry clings to her and Milah looks highly displeased at all of this. “I won’t leave you!” 

 

“I love you,” she says, tucking her head against his. “I swear, if I could stop this…” She can feel the power still rushing from her, opening reserves she’d never known she’d had, and she feels Henry kissing her cheek, over and over again as though true love might save them.

 

But there’s no curse now, only Regina.

 

She closes her eyes as the trigger’s power intensifies and takes all she has into it, every last bit of her life-force that remains, and with her dying thought she dwells only on a single image, Emma lying beside her on the castle grounds with tiny Henry between them, the three of them staring up at the stars.

 

* * *

 

Emma dusts off her hands and says, sinking to the ground at the bottom of their hill, “That must be the last ogre in this land.” 

 

“Maybe up here,” Al says, crouching down beside her. “Who knows what’s going on down south?” 

 

“I’ve heard that people are spreading out again,” Lancelot tells them, sheathing his sword. “Supposedly, our witch- our first witch,” he amends. Too many witches, as far as Emma’s concerned. “Was even impersonating me for a brief while. She massacred dozens before she left this land.” 

 

“Many are clearing out of the area close to the Evil Queen’s old castle,” Will adds. He’d gone down on the last scouting mission, and they’re due to make another trip down now to report the safe space to some of the villagers remaining. It’s been months since Zelena had burst out of the Dark Castle and set up camp in Regina’s old castle, and they’ve been occupied with the ogres. “But the land is clear of ogres. Our second witch has begun sending her flying monkeys after them.” 

 

“Great.” Emma scowls at the reminder of her two lost men. “So it’s a witch or ogres to choose from. This land has been left to ruin.” Regina had sown destruction and then left to her victorious end, whatever it had been, and they’re still picking up the pieces.

 

Hating Regina had once been  _hard_ , before Henry had gone missing and this curse had ravaged the land. Now Regina’s absence means that Emma’s been seething for over a year, focusing on her people and the ogres and the land in an attempt to keep herself under control instead of remembering how much she loves Regina.  _Loved. Loved. Loved._

 

“We’ll pack up tonight and prepare to go south,” she decides. “We can’t waste any more time. Enough people have died without us.” They’d be dead, too, had they joined with the refugees killed by Cora, but Emma can’t help the twinges of guilt that she’d protected her men and left others behind in her panic. “Make sure that Zelena fails where Cora succeeded.” 

 

The others fall into step behind her, Lancelot and Al and Aziz while Will lingers to wait for Much and John’s return, trudging up the hill to the Dark Castle. “More fighting.” Aziz is the only one who sounds excited about it. “Abi, can we stay?” 

 

“Not much longer,” Al says. “We have a kingdom of our own to maintain.” They’ve been traveling back and forth over the months, Al reluctant to leave them alone and Jasmine sending messages to Emma promising them whatever soldiers they need to take down Zelena.

 

She might take her up on that. 

 

Aziz is whining, “Yeah, but ogres! Witches! Our palace sorcerer won’t even let me fight him,” when Emma sees movement in the windows of the castle. She throws up a hand and he falls silent.

 

Slowly, in sync, they creep to the one open window, Emma crouching on the sill outside it as she eases out her bow. There’s a female knight standing at the center of the hall, listening as a man with his back turned to them is talking. “He must have something. He always had something.” 

 

The voice is vaguely familiar, like a dream from years ago, and she frowns, nocking an arrow as the woman responds. “If he couldn’t come after you–“ 

 

“I have to tell Henry that I’m alive,” the man insists, and Emma is so startled that she lets the arrow fly, narrowly missing the woman. 

 

They both spin around, the woman raising his sword, and Al pops up beside Emma and says what’s running through her head. “ _Neal_?” 

 

“Al! Emma?” It _is_ Neal. He’s a good decade older now, has passed her by more than a few years. “My god, you’re a _child._ ” 

 

“Neal!” She jumps down, dropping her bow on the sill as she clambers down, his arms encircling her as she ducks into his embrace. He holds her tightly, her head tucked under his chin, and she closes her eyes and enjoys the familiarity of him with her before she pulls out of his grasp and demands, “You’ve seen Henry?” 

 

“He’s safe,” he’s quick to assure her. “Last I saw him, he was heading off to school for the day while the rest of us put together a plan to find Regina.” 

 

“Regina. What has she done?” Emma demands, dread building at just the name. Henry’s been living with her for years, as far as she knows. Regina who never changes. Henry who she loves, who she must love, but she never changes. 

 

But Neal is shaking his head. “It seemed like she was being tortured,” he says, clearly troubled, and then he seizes her by the shoulders. “We thought you might be dead. We haven’t gotten any reliable news on you. I thought you were gone.” 

 

He’s holding her again, wrapping her in a far less comforting hug now, and all she can think to say, is, stupidly, “Regina’s being tortured?” 

 

Al is racing across the floor now, pulling Neal from Emma to give him an exuberant hug of his own, and the two of them launch into conversation while Emma stands back, arms around her as she struggles to remind herself, again and again. _Loved. Loved. Loved._

 

“Emma,” the female warrior repeats, and Emma starts and turns to face her. The woman shrugs in greeting. “Mulan,” she introduces herself. “And you’re Swan Hood.” 

 

“You’re the most valiant warrior on this side of the Enchanted Forest,” Emma counters, recognizing the name.

 

“You’re missing,” Mulan says, flushing a bit at the compliment. “That is…that’s what we all thought when Snow was asking after you. No one had seen you in our kingdom.” 

 

“ _Snow’s_ here?” The hope that surges forth is impossible. Whatever their earlier disagreements, Snow may know about Henry. Snow might be able to help them all. 

 

“No longer,” Mulan says apologetically, and Emma’s face falls. “She was here for a brief time, fought Cora, and returned to the other world with Cora at her heels.” 

 

“Cora went back there. To where Regina is,” Emma says slowly. That prickle of fear is completely uncalled for, too. “No news of her, right?” 

 

“Dead,” Neal informs her. “Regina…Snow…someone killed her. I’m not really sure of the story there. I’d just gotten to town.” 

 

“Regina killed Cora?” She’s beginning to develop a headache. She zeroes in on the most important detail of all of this. “Henry. How can we get to Henry?”

 

* * *

 

Regina wakes up. Which is a surprise in itself, actually. Maybe she is dead and this is some death dream. Though she doesn’t know why she’d be lying in a dank cave, hands and legs bound together, if she’s already dead. “Henry?” she whispers into the dark.

 

A voice says, “No.” When she leans into view, Regina is suddenly certain that this is all impossible. “About time you woke up,” Tinkerbell says, her face hostile as she leans forward. “I’ve been looking forward to this chat for quite some time.” 

 

“Is this…is this the part where everyone with a grievance comes forward to harass me for the rest of the afterlife?” she groans, shifting. “When is Emma coming in?”

 

Tink smirks with no humor. “You’re in Neverland. Your family brought you here while you were unconscious. They were searching for your son.” 

 

“My son. Where’s my son?” She tries to stand and makes it to a half-sitting position. “What happened to him?”

 

Tink shrugs. “I’m not here to help you. Not after you burned me.” 

 

“Burned you?” She remembers well their meeting, remembers Tink _interfering_ , so convinced of how perfect her end would be. “You’re the one who interfered with my life.”

 

Tink doesn’t have magic anymore, and she releases her own bonds, stands- _where is Henry, where am I, my family brought me here? Are we in exile?_ \- and Tink promptly threatens her with a poisoned arrow.

 

“Okay,” she says, with a rush of recklessness. “You want to kill me? I can make it easier.” She reaches into her chest and grips her heart, prodding Tink in all the right ways. It’s frighteningly easy to do this, to put her life on the line to save herself. She’s grown accustomed to being her own sacrifice. And if this– if there’s a chance that Tink _won’t_ , that she can bring her to Henry– “Crush it,” she says, and hands it to the former fairy.

 

Tink squeezes her heart and Regina feels it, dull and not nearly as painful as surrendering to the trigger. Death will hurt less than life, and she breathes easier knowing it. “Do you know what you cost me?” she demands, turning around.

 

“Your wings,” Regina says, understanding at last. And there’s the remorse, sharper than it’s been in so long. She’d _known_ , back when Tink had invited her to find her soulmate. She’d known how it would end. And she’d gone along with it…out of shame? Out of some daring hope that anything could change?

 

And now Tink is demanding the truth. “I know you went inside! I know you didn’t run and I know the spell worked so why couldn’t you just accept it? Why couldn’t you just go through that door and try to know your soulmate?"

 

“I knew her.” Regina says, and she can feel the frustrated energy still there, the grim resignation that she’s taken her last option and lost it. Tink stares at her in disbelief. “Her name was Emma and I was nearly in love with her then and I’d already… All you did was confirm to me what I’d been afraid of. There was no happy fate for me. There was no chance for new love because…” She squeezes her eyes shut. “I’d already destroyed that.” 

 

She’d loved Emma and she’d been terrified to lose her and all she’d been thinking about was Mother reaching into her chest and taking her heart out. All she’d wanted was to possess Emma, to keep her safe as she couldn’t Daniel, to bring her closer and closer until Regina would be certain that she’d never lose her. So she’d taken Emma’s heart from her chest and Emma had begged her, had cried and gasped  _I hate you_ and Regina had lost her forever in that moment. No matter what had come later, Emma had always been lost to her from then.

 

“I chose darkness and anger and hate because it was all I _had_ , don’t you understand? There were no more second chances.” Tink is still watching her, face still and unfriendly, and she plows on, turns the heart so Tink can see it gleaming black and red. _Small, hard, dark heart_. “If you make the same choice I did, then what you’re looking at is your own future.” Tink rips her hand away from her and stalks away, but Regina can see the uncertainty in her eyes. “I’m not going to tell you what to do. The choice is yours. Kill me or act like the fairy you are.” 

 

“You said I was a terrible fairy.” 

 

“Well, then prove me wrong. Pick hope over anger.” She’s the last person in the universe to advocate for that, and yet, surrounded with people who believe as firmly as Snow and Henry do, she thinks it’s the only choice she’s had. “Choose love and help me find my son.” 

 

Tink holds her heart, looking a bit breathless by all of this, staggered in place and still undecided. “You love your son?” 

 

“Very much.” It doesn’t take effort to smile at that, at the chance she’d never thought she’d get. “With Henry I finally got something right.” 

 

Tink has just returned her heart and they’re trudging through the woods when there’s a burst of motion and Snow and David are emerging in front of them, bow and sword raised. “Regina!” 

 

She has Snow’s arms thrown around her an instant later and she wavers in place, dismayed to discover that her own hands have moved to rest on Snow’s back. “We’ve been so worried! We brought you here and we thought…you still had a pulse even though you hadn’t moved in days!” 

 

From behind Snow she can see Milah lurking, and she gets a long-suffering roll of her eyes at that. _Days_ , she can nearly hear the sigh. There’s something like apology in Milah’s eyes, too, and Regina almost relaxes at that.

 

Except… “Henry. Where is he?” she demands, and the look in Snow’s eyes terrifies her.

 

* * *

 

He’s a boy sitting on an overturned tree, drawing letters in the dirt with a branch. They’re long and jagged, _H, E, N, R,Y_ and then _M, I, L, L, S_. “Mills?”

 

“Their surname,” Neal supplies, and Emma keeps her hands tight on the crystal ball they’d found and watches him, the lump in her throat growing and growing until she can’t breathe.

 

_Henry Mills_. She’s been searching for him for what seems like forever, over a year now of longing desperately for him. She hasn’t seen him in more than eight years. And here he is, twelve years old and completely lost to her, and she wants to sob, to sink to the ground now and give up, hate Regina for all she’s missed and can never recover, and…

 

The scene blurs and changes and she sees instead a woman walking through the woods. _Milah,_ murmuring to David. (David?) And behind them both, the orb zooms in so she can’t possibly look away. Snow, a hand resting on Regina’s elbow. She sucks in a breath. 

 

Regina looks like a stranger. Yes, her hair is shorter and she’s wearing breeches of some sort with a short waistcoat, but it isn’t that. Her steps are lighter, her eyes don’t flash with the same dangerous _hatelovehate_ that had been like dancing with a flame even in their quiet moments, and she’s half smiling at something Snow is saying to her. _Snow._  The lump in Emma’s throat grows some more.

 

“Neverland. Why are they in Neverland?” She hears the question from afar, hands still pressed to the crystal ball as the vision switches back to her son. And then back to a Regina she doesn’t know. _Eight years_ , she reminds herself, and doesn’t know why she wants to cry about this. “Pan was looking for a boy,” Neal is saying. In the orb, Milah says something loudly that has Regina smirking and swaggering forward. David’s hand drifts across her back as she hurls a fireball at something ahead of them. 

 

“And you believe that to be Henry,” Mulan says dubiously. Henry has stopped drawing his name in the dirt and is slumped over now, staring at his hands as though he can will them to make fire. 

 

“It must be. Why else would he be in Neverland?” Neal is moving around her toward the closet they’d found. “Help me look. Lots of things make portals. Beans. Magic mirrors. Ruby slippers. Some kind of ashes.” 

 

“I went to Neverland once,” Aziz says, and Emma and Neal both turn around. He shrugs. “A few years ago. I looked out my window and I called for Peter Pan to see if he’d come and this shadow took me to Neverland. And then in the morning I was home. Zumurrud was still with us then and she told me it was true, that Pan comes for boys who believe.”

 

Al shakes his head. “I won’t let you–“ 

 

“I have an idea,” Neal says quickly, and they spring into motion. Al is reluctant but Aziz is eager, already trailing Mulan around like a pup and desperate to impress her. “Aziz, you need a better reason than that,” Mulan says patiently. 

 

“I can be a hero!” 

 

“You can,” Mulan concedes, grinning at him in acquiescence. “But I don’t think your father wants you to throw yourself in front of Peter Pan’s shadow as bait.” 

 

Al shrugs uncomfortably. “Look, I don’t like it. But Emma and Neal are friends. And Henry…Emma can’t lose Henry again. I trust you two. If you say he’ll be safe–“ 

 

“He’ll be safe,” Neal says again. “Al, I would never let your son be in any true danger. And listen.” He kneels down to look Aziz in the eye. “If you do get taken- and you won’t,” he says hastily. “But if you do, find Henry. Find Regina. That’s Henry’s mom. Tell her who you are. She’ll look after you.” 

 

“You want to trust Regina with another child?” Emma says, her voice rising dangerously. 

 

Neal gives her a pained look. “Aziz, you’re going to be fine. But this is your decision. I’m sure we can find…some other way, if you don’t want to…” 

 

“I do,” Aziz says immediately. “I remember Henry, kind of. Or…I remember what Abi told me about us. We were friends. I can help you.” 

 

Emma bites her lip and turns to Al, uncertain about this next part. “I know that I have…responsibilities here. I’m supposed to be leading us down south again. But I have to go.” 

 

“No one will question it if you leave. We know what Henry means to you,” Al says, squeezing her hand. “Now, we wait until nightfall.” 

 

She sits with Mulan as they set up the room to accommodate their mission, Mulan supervising from a couch as Al and Lancelot drag a bed to the front of a window. “Neal…” 

 

He stops what he’s doing to come sit beside her. “This will work. I swear to you.”

 

But she isn’t looking for reassurance as much as  _answers,_ of what had happened in the last moments before the curse and what’s been going on since. “Tell me about Regina and Henry,” she says. 

 

“They’re fine. Well. Henry’s fine,” Neal is quick to assure her. “I don’t know how he wound up in Neverland but he’s a good kid and Regina’s taken good care of him. Regina’s been kind of…complicated, but her mom was in town. And with our parents, it’s kind of  _run away_ or  _compromise who you are_ , not much in between.” He winces. “I was shot on a rescue mission for her, actually, because my fiancé and some other asshole took her captive. But I guess Snow and David bailed her out. She looks like she’s doing fine now.” He laughs. “I thought my family was fucked up.” 

 

The prickle of worry slows the hatred, makes it into something more manageable, and Emma takes a deep breath, remembering Snow’s hand on Regina’s elbow in the crystal ball. “And they’re all…fine with Regina. They don’t care about what she’s done?” 

 

“She broke the curse,” Mulan says suddenly. They both stare at her. “That’s what I heard from Snow. Snow was very confused about how to feel about her. But she did say that Regina and Henry had broken the curse.” 

 

Emma can feel a headache coming on. The  _hope_ headache, the one she’d shaken off the moment that she’d woken up one night to find Henry missing. She doesn’t care about Regina’s redemption anymore, not when it’s built upon her lost years. She doesn’t care about who Regina has become as long as Henry is safe and well cared for and her family is alive.

 

Regina is  _not_ her family. Not anymore.

 

Mulan is still peering at her with a sidelong glance. Emma’s jaw works almost violently before she reminds herself that Mulan is not her enemy. “What?” 

 

“Nothing.” She bites her lip. “Just…I’ve heard the rumors, too. I think everyone has. Swan Hood and the Evil Queen.” 

 

“Ugh.” Emma leans back, covering her eyes and refusing to let this continue into  _that_ kind of a heart-to-heart. “The rumors are crap. Regina is vile.”

 

“You raised a child with her.” 

 

“And then she snatched the child away,” Emma snaps. “I wouldn’t call it all true love, Mulan.” 

 

“I’m sorry.” Mulan looks crestfallen, something deeper at work here, and Emma feels instantly guilty. 

 

“It wasn’t all bad,” she concedes. “I just…it’s hard to dwell on the good anymore when I’m here in this land and Henry is with  _her_ and she did all of this. If you ever fall in love, make sure she doesn’t have a body count.” She claps her on the back and notices Mulan’s face tense even more. “Or…if you’re already in love?” 

 

At the window, Lancelot looks disappointed at that speculation. Emma shoots him a sly glance.

 

“She doesn’t,” Mulan mutters. “But  _we_  aren't something she’d ever consider.”  

 

“You’ll never know unless you try, huh?” Emma says, her tone light. “Make sure she doesn’t take out your heart when you do make a go of it. There’s a good sign that you’re going to have a fucked up relationship.” She gets four alarmed stares from that and one fascinated, which is when she considers that Aziz really may be too young for this.

 

“I am  _not_!” he protests when she points it out. “I can do this. I just stand at the window and say–“ 

 

“Not yet!” They move into position, Emma and Neal crouched on either side of the bed, Mulan hiding to the side with her magic-cutting sword, and Al and Lancelot pacing on the other side of the room. 

 

Aziz stands in front of the bed and says, rolling his eyes, “I believe.” 

 

They wait a long minute. Neal is moving to stand just as the windows blow open and the room darkens. A black mass- like a shadow, but more menacing- appears at the window and Emma stands, preparing herself, as it reaches for Aziz’s hand. Aziz stumbles back and Mulan darts forward, slicing at the shadow’s arm. There’s a cry like an angered screech, the shadow fleeing the room, and Emma and Neal each seize a leg of it, wispy and barely tangible.

 

“Hang on!” Neal calls as the shadow moves higher, twisting and kicking in an attempt to make them release it. “You’re a girl, it’ll resist more–“ 

 

“I’ve got this!” She’s hanging on for dear life, even though the shadow is rising and falling now to cast her off. It doesn’t even seem to notice Neal, not when there’s Emma still holding on, and she focuses all her energy on what’s going to happen next. She’s going to see Henry at last, going to find him and bring him home to her, going to see her brother and Snow and– 

 

They slam into a tree and Neal howls in pain and Emma drops, Neal toppling down just below her as the shadow flies away free. “No!” She grabs at branches, slows her fall and seizes Neal with her feet against his chest. “No, no, no,” she chants. She can feel herself sliding, feel the lack of anything in her grasp that means that she’d failed, that Henry is out of reach again and she’s lost once more. She’s scraping against the tree and it seems to go on forever, tangling in branches and falling, falling, down into an abyss.

 

* * *

 

“She’s alive,” Milah says suddenly. They’re alone together in the woods, Snow and David having disappeared some time earlier for alone time. Milah and David had returned from a mission to find some sextant or…something. Regina doesn’t really care about leaving the island, only finding Henry. 

 

Snow had given Milah suspicious looks before they’d gone and she’d laughed. _Curb your jealousy. I’ve been married to Rumplestiltskin. I’ve discovered men aren’t worth the bother_. She’d given Regina a sly look at that and Snow had relaxed only a hair, looking equally unhappy with Milah’s interest in Regina as she had with David. 

And then Regina had had to knock Snow unconscious to take a Lost Boy’s heart and use it to send him to Henry, to _see_ Henry in her mirror and reassure him that she’s alive and coming for him. Snow had still been brooding when David had returned, and now here they are, the outcasts of the camp alone while the lovebirds go off on their own. “Who?” she says, desperate for the confirmation and no more games.

 

“Your lady love. Emma. We met briefly in the Enchanted Forest.” Milah reconsiders. “Well. I nearly killed her. That knight of hers spared her and Cora decided that she wasn’t worth the bother of pursuing when she went north. There was something up north that she was–“ 

 

Regina crashed her lips against hers, kisses her with fierce relief until they’re both locked together, Regina’s legs up around Milah’s waist as the pirate woman leans back to allow her to slip down to her hips.

 

“Thank you,” she breathes, grinding against her. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” She leans back down to kiss her again, yanking her up by her overshirt and pulling her close until Milah’s hands are moving up to support her instead and the ardor is fading. 

 

Still, she doesn’t pull away, just remains in place with Milah’s thumbs brushing against her breasts and her lips resting on her until Milah gently disentangles her from her. “You are so disgustingly monogamous,” she says, shaking her head. “It’s a travesty.”

 

“I’ve been told.” Graham, of all people, had made a move on her early in the curse, and she’d been far too busy struggling to find Emma to do more than rudely brush him off multiple times. “So this is what you meant by _men aren’t worth the bother_.” 

 

Milah leans back beside her, fingers trailing up Regina’s leg. “Not since Killian.” 

 

“The pirate captain you replaced. The one Rumple killed.” 

 

“He was…well. Not a good man.” Milah smiles to herself, then grows serious. “You know how the Enchanted Forest could be about women who didn’t want to… And this was long ago. Rumple was the village pariah. I spent years being reviled in town, kicked out of the town square, confronted by men who _wanted a go at me_ because my husband was a coward and who would stop them? I begged Rumple to let go of the town, to leave with me and Bae.” 

 

“But he didn’t.” Regina can’t imagine Rumple powerless. But she can’t imagine ever leaving Henry of her own free will, either.

 

“He wanted his same old life, same old home. And me, his little wife.” Milah grimaces. “Killian wasn’t a good man, but he gave me a life beyond that, an escape from that world where being caged in a village was going to be my only future. And Rumple came after me and killed him and took my hand for ever daring to defy him.” She shakes her head. “And now he has another woman poised to be his little wife as well. Poor girl.” 

 

“I thought you’d attacked her?” Regina can’t throw stones in this case, she supposes, but she definitely recalls saving Belle’s life from Milah at least once in the old land, and some altercation on Milah’s ship here.

 

Milah leans against her. “Never simply for being Rumple’s. I’ve been his collateral damage far too often to do the same to her. I wish only the best for her.” She sounds wistful and brokenhearted at once, and Regina knows she’s thinking of Bae. 

 

She says, “And you know my mother and Rumple had some dalliance, didn’t they?” A second thought crosses her mind and she tears away from where Milah’s hand is absently running along her thigh. “You didn’t do _this_ with my mother, did you?”

 

Milah’s lips turn up in a half smirk and Regina is suddenly very glad they hadn’t gone any farther than this together.

 

They sit in silence for a moment and Regina tentatively touches Milah’s arm, craves the contact to center her even if it’s all it is. 

 

Milah confesses in a whisper, “I should never have followed Rumple to Bae. Bae was…my one regret. I wanted to come for him, but it was never the right time to face Rumple again. And when I met him in Neverland, he jumped off my ship. He was so angry.” She ducks her head. “And now he's gone.” 

 

“I’m sorry,” Regina says, and means it, even if a part of her is still terrified at the thought of Henry having _other options_. Of a father who he can run to when Regina proves insufficient.

 

“But we’ll save your Henry.” 

 

“Yes.” Regina stares into the distance and wonders, and wonders… “And if we can get to Neverland…maybe we can find our way to Emma someday.” 

 

Milah laughs like a whisper in the night. “ _Disgustingly_ monogamous,” she repeats, and Regina pulls up her knees and waits for Snow and David to return. They don’t apologize, don’t talk about past betrayals or what else lies behind them. They’re the villains of this piece, and they deserve each other, and there’s no need to do anything more than sit together and long for the ones they love.

 

* * *

 

On their third day trudging through the Infinite Forest, Emma is nearly stampeded by a horse. “Whoa!” She ducks back, getting one blow on the cheekbone for her trouble. “Hey! Calm… _Rocinante_?” She whistles Regina’s old whistle for him on automatic, eyes wide. 

 

The horse whinnies and bows his head, nuzzling Emma’s hair, and she puts a tentative hand on his mane. It’s matted and dirty and the horse neighs again when she touches it, clearly agitated. He looks underfed and mangy in ways that Regina would never allow, and Emma says without thinking, “Let’s get you cleaned up.” 

 

“We can finally get out of this forest now that we have a horse,” Neal says, blinking at her. “And now you want to play stable girl?” 

 

“Give me a few minutes. This is…never mind,” she mutters, a flush on her cheeks. Regina’s horse is not Regina, and doesn’t deserve to be neglected for her grudge. That’s all. And a familiar face is a familiar face, even if it’s a horse’s face. 

 

She leads Rocinante down to some water and fashions a comb for him with some sticky tree sap and broken arrowheads. Carefully, gently, she untangles his mane and orders Neal to go find them something for the horse to eat. 

 

Rocinante resists Neal mounting him even when he’s finally clean, and Neal slumps. “It’s fine. You go get the others. I’ll wait here.” 

 

“I’m not leaving you alone in the Infinite Forest!” Emma protests. “Rocinante will just have to get used to you.” Rocinante chews happily on her hair. She gives him a dirty look.

 

“Or you could ride with me,” says a voice, and they both spin around. 

 

“Mulan!”

 

“I’ve been tracking you for days,” she says, dismounting from her own steed. “I left the castle shortly after you, and when I came back, the others were gone. Lancelot found me the next day.” He arrives behind her with a genial smile, dismounting as well. 

 

“We saw you fall.” He frowns, clasping a hand on Emma’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry about your attempt.” 

 

Emma shrugs, uncomfortable thinking about it. She’s declined all of Neal’s prodding too, his determination to _find another way_ that will only end in more heartbreak. Emma resigns herself far too easily to loneliness, she knows, and she’s falling back on old habits now, giving up rather than coping with elusive hope. “Yeah, well. I guess it is what it is. We’re here to fight ogres and witches, right?” She turns to Mulan. “How about it? You want to be a Merry Man? I barely got any time with Jasmine before she left and I could use someone a little less _male_ on my team.” 

 

Mulan looks at her for a moment, something almost like despair haunting her eyes. _No_ , Emma recognizes. _Heartbreak._ Then she had spoken to the object of her affections, after all, and returned to the castle shortly after, and thus…

 

Lancelot smiles down at her, his affection already strong and clear, and Mulan doesn’t seem to notice it at all. “I think I’ve become a Merry Man,” he says, shaking his head. “It’s not all it’s cracked up to be. Dank castles–“ 

 

“Lots of alcohol,” Emma says brightly.

 

“Ogres everywhere.” 

 

“Singing. Brotherhood. _Sisterhood_.” 

 

“You may be turned into a flying monkey, but if you aren’t, she puts you to _work_.” 

 

“I’m a great leader!” Emma shoots back, then reconsiders. “Or…halfway decent. I let Little John do most of the work.” 

 

Lancelot’s lips curve upwards. “You’re the very best,” he concedes, and Emma notes with relief that some of the heartbreak has faded from Mulan’s eyes as she watches them.

 

“I’d be honored to join you,” she says formally, and ducks her head in a polite bow. Emma inclines her head, too, gripping Mulan’s hand with both of hers. “Welcome to the team,” she murmurs, and they forge forward together.

 

* * *

 

They save Henry. Well. _Regina_ saves Henry, with plenty of help from the others. Rumple and Milah seem to find some peace from their shared grudges against Pan as they fight him. Snow speaks to the Lost Boys, promises them mothers if they’ll only help them find Pan with Henry’s heart in him. And Regina yanks out Pan’s heart and rescues Henry and holds him tight to her, breathing for the first time in days.

 

(Snow had looked at Regina significantly during her little _mothers_ spiel, and after, Regina feels obligated to lay down the law. “I’m not your mother.” 

 

“You’re kind of like my mother.” 

 

“I am _not_ your mother.” 

 

“Sister?” Snow’s eyes had danced and then turned solemn. “Sister-in-law?”

 

Regina had ignored her and returned to Henry.)

 

And then, because nothing is so easy, there’s a body swap and a new curse and Rumple is sacrificing himself to kill his father. 

 

Belle sinks to the ground with an agonized cry and Milah hesitates for a moment and drops down beside her. “Belle…” she begins, and Belle slaps at her blindly, shoves her away.

 

“Stop it. Don’t you dare. You hated him! You wanted him dead!” She’s sobbing and Milah remains on the ground, looking hard and defiant but lost at the same time. Regina knows what it’s like, when your vengeance ebbs away instead of gaining the satisfaction of _ending_ them, and Milah still seems uncomfortable until Belle leans into her, taking the comfort where it’s offered.

 

But there are worse things coming than Rumple’s end, and Regina knows it with a clarifying touch to the curse scroll. She sees in a flash what must be done, and then she sees nothing at all.

 

When she comes to, it’s to impart grim news on the others. The curse is coming, and all she can do to stop it is a full reversal, taking them all back the Enchanted Forest. But there’s a price. There’s always a price.

 

“I have to say goodbye to the thing I love most,” she says faintly, and Henry gapes at her in denial.

 

This is it. This is the only ending for them. She can walk over the town line right now with her memories intact, take Henry with her and leave the rest of them to the curse. She could have left them to their fate and never spoken of the counter-curse and Henry would mourn but never suspect that there’s anything more that she can do.

 

Except she _can’t_ do any of that. She doesn’t even think about it, not anymore. _Let me die as Regina_ now seems the easier path, but it’s one she’s eschewed for good. She sometimes feels as though there’s a long line in history, tracing back all evils that befall this town to her and all she’s done. And now yet another has begun and it’s her task to undo it.

 

_I should have never made you break the curse_ , Henry says, and she’s horrified to realize that he’s doing the same, finding blame in a situation that is only her fault. 

 

“Henry, no.” She bends down to meet his eyes. “It wasn’t your fault. I cast a curse out of vengeance and I’m...I'm a villain. You heard Mr. Gold. Villains don't get happy endings.” 

 

“You’re not a villain. You’re my mom.” He wraps her in a hug, pressing so hard against her that she can feel his tears wet against the side of her neck. 

 

When she parts from him, it’s to turn to Snow and David, their hands joined tightly as Snow murmurs, “I don’t want to do this.” 

 

“You have to stay,” David says, kissing her on her temple. “There’s a kingdom that will need your guidance. You can find Emma. And someone has to look after Regina.” He laughs wetly and she laughs wetly and Regina stares at both of them, bewildered, until David says, “I’m going to go with Henry.” 

 

“You’ll lose your memories,” Regina says, uncertain. “I don’t even know if you’ll be able to resist the curse if you were a part of the first one.” Her eyes flicker to Milah for a moment, wondering for a moment, but it’s _Henry_. She wouldn’t trust Milah with him quite yet.

 

But David…

 

“He shouldn't be alone,” he says, smiling at her even as it fades when he gazes at Snow. “And Snow. You won’t be alone, right? You’ll take care of her.” He returns Regina with such faith in her eyes that it staggers her. She doesn’t know how they’ve gotten this far this quickly, how David is _trusting her_ with Snow’s life, how she doesn’t even hesitate before she nods.

 

“She won’t be alone,” she says faintly, and she doesn’t resist David’s arms around her, leans in and opens her eyes only to meet Snow’s grieving gaze.

 

David and Henry get into David’s old pickup truck and Snow is already sobbing, is standing beside her watching them leave and Regina murmurs, “They need you to be strong.” There are tears spilling from her cheeks, too, but she isn’t the one the town is looking to for hope. That’s who Snow is, even without…

 

_I shall destroy your happiness if it is the last thing I do._

 

And she has. She has.

 

Snow turns, her face as still as she can muster, and they both face the crowd of people in front of the town line. Regina tears the curse from its scroll and feels the energy overwhelm her, reaches upward for it to meet Pan’s curse and thinks for a moment of Henry and David, grants them good memories of the years they’ll lose when they cross the line. Of David taking Henry in after his mothers’ loss, of an uncle and son finding joy in every day of their lives. Of a safe house she keeps in New York and of a world where even Prince Charming no longer believes in fairytales.

 

And she’s weeping and her heart is in agony and _Henry, Henry, Henry_ , and even knowing what’s on the other side of this curse- a woman she’d loved, a future she’d thrown away- is a bright light of hope obscured by the darkness that Henry leaves behind.

 

* * *

 

Beetle is waiting for them down south with Will and Little John. “There aren’t many people left, but Much _still_ managed to find a lass to settle down with,” John says, rolling his eyes. 

 

“Al and Aziz have returned to Agrabah for the time being. It’s just the four of us now.” 

 

“Six,” Emma corrects them, nodding to Neal and Mulan. “So what now?” 

 

“We can’t get into the witch’s territory. She has some sort of shield up. But the flying monkeys have still been roaming the land.” As if on cue, there’s a screech from above and Emma’s arming her bow, lifting it upwards and aiming for the monkey’s wing. It squalls in pain and flies off.

 

“That might’ve been the Friar,” Lancelot notes, an eyebrow lifted.

 

“If he’s trying to kill us, we do what we have to.” She climbs back onto Rocinante, nodding for Neal to take Beetle. “Although.” 

 

“Hm?” 

 

She bites her lip. Conceding defeat is never easy for her, and these thoughts have been nagging at her for days. “This land…is there really a future in this land? How many people are we throughout the woods? Fifty? A hundred? Is it worth fighting a witch to protect our land?” 

 

She can see the same doubts mirrored on all their faces, the same indecision. This isn’t a life for them, fighting and fighting for scraps. There’s the Dark Castle up north. There are lands beyond the Enchanted Forest that remain untouched by the curse, safe and distant from Zelena, and maybe they shouldn’t stay here. Maybe they’re better off giving up.

 

Mulan is frowning at her suddenly, eyes wide, and Emma thinks that she may have gone too far with this suggestion when she sees Neal gaping, too, and there’s a sudden roar of energy from behind her.

 

The sky goes dark and Emma spins Rocinante around just in time to catch sight of a massive, billowing cloud of purple smoke. It’s magic, it’s _familiar_ magic, and she ducks down as Rocinante raises his head and neighs a long, loud call.

 

The magic washes over her until all she sees is purple wind all around her and Rocinante’s mane against her forehead and she holds on for dear life and thinks only one word, enough to have hope light on fire in her heart and scorch her in the process. 

 

_Regina._


End file.
